


Mortal Gods Book 1: Never Changes

by Zireks



Series: Mortal Gods [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: 2 years after HoO, A bit of shipping but the pairings are a secret for now, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, Long Form, Mild Gore, Multiple OCs incoming, No Other Pantheons exist, They Aren't Self Inserts, Time For the Side Characters to Shine, ToA didn't happened, Violence, post blood of olympus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zireks/pseuds/Zireks
Summary: It was to be just another Winter Solstice Meeting, filled with the same cyclical arguments that defined their immortal lives. But fate takes a turn that no god could have ever expected. Now the Olympians, scattered across North America with nothing but the clothes on their backs, and the help of a few less than thrilled half-bloods, find the fate of their world resting in their, now very mortal, hands.





	1. Small Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an idea that has been rattling around in the back of my head for awhile now, partially inspired by BobIntheComments' amazing series Shattered. Mortal Gods is a long form fic centered not around the demi-gods we know and love, but around their parents. (Basically Trials of Apollo but applied on a much larger level). Speaking of which, this fic takes place about 2 years after the End of Blood of Olympus but as if the Trials of Apollo never happened. Leo came back a few weeks latter without much else going on, the Emperors weren't a thing, all the stuff with Python never started, oh, and none of the other pantheons exist, just Greeks/Romans here. Anyway, here we go!
> 
> (P.S. Be warned, OCs and an unspecified amount of shipping ahead)

They say the Cold War could have gone hot on multiple occasions, and on those such occasions the preservation of peace and prevention of complete and utter destruction often worryingly came down to the judgement of a single individual. 

 

And so it was on December 21st, 2012, a Tuesday, if you could believe it, that the fate of all Olympus fell unknowingly into the hands of one underpaid secretary of the gods that went by the name of Kevin.

 

“Is there a problem sir?” The guest asked.

 

Kevin gulped. Now you see, Kevin was not what one would call a particularly _ intelligent _ guy. He flunked out of college half a semester in, lost his life savings to phishing scams, and only had the job he had now because his eyes were smarter than his brain and could see through the protective mist of the gods. So, as the Fates would have it, Kevin’s job became that of pushing a button and letting those with clearance up to the divine realm of Olympus, and when they didn’t have clearance to  _ not  _ push the button and sit there awkwardly till they left.

Kevin looked back and forth between the two guests and the passes they’d given him. They both  _ looked  _ like half bloods at least. Both were in their teens, sported Camp Half-Blood t-shirts, and had known to ask for Olympus. Any other day Kevin would have just let them pass, but today, today Kevin actually thought he’d caught something suspicious.

 

“We, like, already got this week’s shipment of Ambrosia though.”

 

The first guest, a short boy with a permanent devilish smirk and eyes with a slight yellow tint, stepped forward, “Yes, yes we know ,and I am dreadfully sorry about the inconvenience but, since it is the Winter Solstice and all we desperately wish for the Olympians to try out the camp’s latest recipe.”

 

He placed a briefcase in front of him and opened it to reveal several dozen golden browny like squares, Ambrosia, the food of the gods. The boy gestured to them and nodded excitedly. Kevin leaned to the side to get a look at the boy’s partner.

 

The girl stood a full foot taller than the boy and sported short curly brown hair and a stare so intense Kevin felt like he was shrinking every second he kept eye contact.

 

 Kevin rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He was a mortal, it wasn’t like he could taste test the damn things. Would the gods even let someone taste test a gift for them? Would that even matter? He looked the kids over again. 

 

Not kids, teenagers, upper teens. They must have both been about seventeen by the looks of ‘em. There weren’t many half bloods that old and the ones that were were pretty important, important enough for them to have been to Olympus before and for Kevin to recognize them. 

 

Now Kevin, and he swears by this, was  _ about  _ to turn the two away but,  _ but _ , the lobbies’ intercom chose that precise moment to play  _ Santa Baby  _ for the sixteenth time that shift and ruin his concentration.

 

“Ugh not again” he whined, slamming his head into his desk. After a moment of sulking a firm yet gentle hand grasped his shoulder, “Sir.”

 

He raised his head up to see the girl standing besides him, her eyes a smidge less intense than before “Forgive us for troubling you, but I swear on the River Styx that we will do no wrong during our brief visit to Olympus.”

 

Thunder rolled in the distance.

 

Something cold and metallic found its way into Kevin’s right hand, he looked down and found a golden drachma, more than he made in a month. He looked back up to see the boy smiling at him, “And besides, letting us up just this once couldn’t cause too much trouble, right?”

 

He tossed Kevin a second Drachma, “Now, why don’t you treat yourself like the hard worker you are and get yourself some nice earplugs so you don’t have to listen to this crap any longer” the boy gave him a wink, slammed the briefcase closed and began striding towards the elevator, his partner in tow. 

 

Kevin fumbled excitedly as he slipped the two coins into his pocket and pushed the button he had pushed a hundred times before, “H-have a Merry Christmas!” He shouted to the two half bloods, a genuine smile on his face.

 

The doors opened and the two stepped inside, the boy looking particularly proud of himself as he shot his partner a glance, “ _ Do no wrong?”  _ He repeated mockingly under his breath, “I’m a godsdamned son of Eris and even I know not to make promises on the Styx without meaning it Justine.”

 

Justine rolled her eyes, “I did mean it. I  _ will _ do no wrong, it just so happens that  _ our  _ definition of wrong might be just a tad bit different than his.”

 

The boy raised an eyebrow, “You know for a daughter of the goddess of Law you sure do love your loopholes.”

 

Justine gave him the most calculated of smirks, “Laws are just words Varian, and words can be bent in as many ways as there are words too be bent, and besides you forget-” she pressed the close door button on the elevator. “Nemesis is also the goddess of Retribution.”

 

Varian broke into a large grin, one hand gripping the briefcase full of Ambrosia, “Then you can bet she’s about to be very, very proud.”

 

The Elevator door closed as Kevin took out the two golden drachma and began giddily rubbing them together. And so he was completely unaware that he, the latest in that long line of underpaid individuals whose judgment would decide the fate of the world, had just done something that the Titans of Kronos and the Giants of Gaia could not.

 

He had just destroyed Olympus.

 

Oh well, at least he got those Hello-kitty earplugs he’d been looking to buy. A fair trade if you asked me.


	2. Silent Night

The half bloods named Varrian and Justine, despite their inherent differences as the son and daughter of the goddesses of Conflict and Order respectively, had about the same initial reaction to laying eyes upon Olympus.

 

“Well this place is gaudy” declared Varrian.

 

“And loud” muttered Justine as she rubbed her temples.

The square was covered with a thin layer of pure white snow with flakes lazily floating down here and there from the cloudless night sky. Nymphs, cyclops, spirits, and a few minor gods milled back and forth, from stand to stand, trading drachma for generous pours of nectar and plates of fresh Ambrosia. All the while the sounds of the Muses singing a greek rendition of  _ I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus  _ as  _ I Saw Mommy Kissing Zeus _ , reverberated through the streets.

 

And yes, even Varrian, a self proclaimed “agent of chaos,” could agree that it was annoyingly loud.

A particularly rowdy cyclops stumbled drunkenly into Varrian’s side, splashed him with alcohol, muttered something about filthy half bloods at him, and continued down the crowded streets of gold. Varrian groaned,  “To think J. wanted to come on this mission so badly, this place is a dump.”

 

Justine nodded absently, “She wanted to be here because her mother is on the council, the boss doesn’t need personal vendetta getting in the way of the mission.”

 

Varrian snickered, “Right, she’d probably try to shove one of these things down her mom’s throat herself-”

 

The music spiked in volume as some bimbo drunk nymph cranked the nearest amp up to eleven and all the patrons of the square roared in approval.

 

Justine staggered forward, clutching the side of her head, Varrian could already see her sweating.

 

He grabbed her by the shoulder, “Why don’t you go find someplace quiet to chill. I’ll drop the package off and meet you there to watch the fireworks.”

 

Justine scowled, “I can-”

 

“I know you can, just humor me and relax. Besides this whole upheaval stuff is kinda my thing after all.” His eyes lit up, and for a brief moment, one would think they were on fire. His seemingly permanent smirk widened, “Give me ten minutes.”

 

Justine sighed, the shrill music of the home of the gods grating too much on her, “Fine, fine, just get it done already.”

 

With a nod the two split from each other, Varrian carried the briefcase full of Ambrosia down the winding, bustling, streets of Olympus to the bakery. It was a short but wide building that stretched longer than many of those surrounding it. Thin wisps of smoke from the ever burning ovens traveled through the open windows and mingled with the snow fall outside. The smells, fresh oranges, chocolate cake, tacos from Taco Bell,  all of Varrian’s favorite foods seemed to float towards him from inside.

 

He’d read up on all the greek myths when he was first taken in by Miss P., one particular one seemed to crawl to the front of his mind as he slipped into the bakery of the gods and made his way towards the racks of Ambrosia, searching for just the right one. It was the story of Tantalus, the man whose first crime was stealing from that very building the recipe for Ambrosia and nectar. How strange it was that the next time someone broke in it would be to give the gods a new one.

Someone was coming, Varrian slid behind the nearest counter and hid, quietly, unseen, he’d gotten used to doing that by the time he was four. As a couple of cyclops wandered past he briefly wondered if Tantalus had hidden there those millenia ago, or how some pampered king had managed to sneak this far in. Then again if the gods had people like Kevin watching their front door back then than everything made a lot more sense.

 

Varrian slowly weaved his way through racks and halls till he approached his destination.

 

“I want that one!”

 

Varrian froze and nudged his head around a corner just enough to lay his eyes on his first Olympian. He wasn’t particularly impressed.

 

The goddess wore a robe of bright pink with accents of red and gold. Her long black hair seemed to cascade down near to her feet as she hunched over a display case lined with countless varieties of Ambrosia. He could see her eyes reflecting back through the glass, one green, the other blue.  _ Aphrodite, J.’s mom. _

 

She was handed a brown bag filled with the golden squares then excitedly declared her next order, “I’ll take forty cinnamon twist squares.”

 

A very flustered and overworked nymph manned the counter. “M-M’lady I fear we’re currently out, of that one, you see it’s extremely popular and the next batch won’t be out for another ten minu-”

 

“WHAT”

 

Varrian nearly fell out of his hiding place as the whole building shook. “But the BORING Solstice meeting starts in FIVE and I NEED my SUGAR to get through that mess.” Aphrodite slammed her foot on the ground and the building shook again, several trays of Ambrosia batter fell to the floor.

 

The nymph seemed to shrink in terror, Varrian would have muttered a prayer for her but there weren’t any gods he wanted to talk to.  _ To Karma maybe?  _ He thought.

 

“M-Ma’am-”

 

“Do I look like a  _ Ma’am _ to you?” She growled.

 

“Eeep” The nymph scurried back into the kitchen, tears streaming down her face.

 

Feeling particularly chaotic today, Varrian slipped behind the counter and rose to meet the pouting goddess with a smile, “Why hello there your eminence, I deeply apologize for my employee’s incompetence.” He bowed with as much fake sincerity that he could muster.

 

Aphrodite, not being the goddess of wisdom for a reason and clearly not used to being referred to as  _ eminence  _ around there, quickly smiled at the out of place halfblood. “Why hello young man, I’m feeling merciful today so I’ll let it slide.” Her smile faded as quickly as it came, “If you get me what I-”

 

“Ah yes, of course.” He unlatched his briefcase and drew out a square of his own Ambrosia, “Sadly we don’t have any of your favorites at the moment, but as an apology please do us the honor of being the first to try our latest recipe. It’s positively  _ divine _ .”

 

The goddess raised an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her, “Oh, and what flavor is it.”

 

“Ah m’lady, you wound me, a chef never reveals their secrets. But I can promise you that it will be the most life changing experience you have ever had.” Varrian made sure to go for an extra wink at the goddess.

 

She chuckled, “Oh you promise do you?”

 

“On the river Styx.”

 

Thunder rolled overhead, nearly unhearable over the shouts and clangs of a busy bakery. The goddess’ posture stiffened slightly, not having expected what appeared to be a mortal to make such a promise so readily. That stiffness quickly gave way to a smile once more.

 

“Well then I’d love one.”

 

“Thank you your grace, thank you.”

 

“Ah  _ grace  _ and  _ eminence _ , aren’t you a charmer?” She batted her eyelashes that seemed to almost glow in the lights of the bakery. Varrian felt a warmth grow inside him. He did however train for situations like this and managed to keep her influence over him at bay.

 

Varrian delicately placed a square of his boss’ Ambrosia in a small bag and gingerly handed it to the goddess, “Enjoy.”

 

“I do hope so for your sake” she said with a light hearted laugh. And with that the goddess vanished into thin air. Varrian snorted as he barely managed to hold back a laugh.  _ J, oh boy do you owe me for that one  _ he thought.

 

A new spring in his step, the child of strife took his briefcase and moved deeper into the bakery, poking his head through each door,  _ come on come on, i’ve got a date to get to,  _ he thought. Removing his head from the latest passageway, his attention was caught by a commotion from the next door over.

 

Poking in, Varrian saw a fat Satyr in an apron yelling at the same young nymph from earlier.

 

_ Poor girl. _

 

__ The Sytr bleated with a barely contained terror, “You’re going to be late you stupid girl! Get this Ambrosia to the council NOW! I will NOT have the gods go a SECOND in that meeting without their every whim catered too.

 

_ Suck-ups, gee, my faaaaaavorite people. _

 

__ The girl squeaked out a response, “Y-Yes sir, s-so sorry sir!” The girl gave a weak salute, this didn’t keep the Satyr chef from continuing his rant.

 

Now, a chivalrous halfblood hero would have stormed in there, face all stoic and attractive, man-handle the Satyr while spouting some amusing saturday morning quip, and become that pretty little thing’s savior. 

 

Sadly, as Justine and the rest of the Mortal Seven-

 

_ Gods that name is still stupid, Klaus should not be handling our branding. _

 

_ \-  _ would testify, Varrian was not and never would be a knight in shining armor. Ah well, nobody's perfect. Now, on with the mission. With the Satyr and Nymph too distracted by their anger and tears respectively, Varrian slipped around to the Ambrosia in question sitting upon a massive gilded plate labeled in all caps, FOR THE GODS, DO NOT TOUCH.

 

_ Now that just makes me want to touch it more. _

 

Checking once, twice, and a third time to make sure the two weren’t looking he emptied most of the Ambrosia from his briefcase on top and scurried away into the next room and waited. After another minute the Satyr ran out of breath and waved her off. She then, still teary eyed, grabbed the plate and vanished into the wind.

 

_ Wind Nymph huh? Neat. _

 

His objective complete, Varrian snaked his way back out into the main room, where, realizing he still had plenty of the boss’ special batch left over, emptied the rest out onto a myriad of different platters of Ambrosia.

 

_ What can I say.  _ He thought with a smile as he closed his now empty briefcase.

 

_ Agent of Chaos. _

 

Satisfied, he grabbed one of the normal squares of Ambrosia and took a triumphant bite...and promptly spat it out most violently. “Dad’s fucking pies again.” He dropped the remnants into a drainage ditch and walked away, his victory still not  _ totally  _ ruined.

 

_ Need to make one last stop,  _ he thought as he strode down the festive streets of Olympus, whistling to the tune of  _ He’s a Mean One, Mr. Hades _ as the song drifted loudly down the boulevard. 

  
  
*****  
  


If J. had seen how Justine was acting she’d have laughed her ass off. Here she was, in the middle of a mission to bring the gods of Olympus to their knees and where was she? Sitting on some glittering park bench off the floating cities’ eastern edge trying to keep her damn brain under control while her partner did all the heavy lifting.

 

“Amateur” she muttered bitterly as she messaged her temples. 

 

When her eyes weren’t jammed she leaned back and looked up at the sky, stars drowned out by the lights below and nothing but the gentle descent of snowflakes disturbing her vision. Everywhere else she tried to look only greeted her with the jarring glares of red and green from New York below or the glittering gold and silver of Olympus to her back, both threatening to pile onto the pain in her head. 

 

What she assumed was the voice of some minor wind god or some other came echoing all the way from Olympus square, “LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!” 

 

Justine winced and then groaned from the sensory overload. Even this far out of the way on Olympus the drifting sounds of revelry were still far too loud. 

 

_ Why did everything the gods have to do be so obnoxiously BIG? _ She sighed.  _ It’s ok, Varrian will be here soon and we can be done with this wretched place _ . 

 

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Her headache began to fade ever so slightly.

 

_ Why couldn’t you have been born of hardier stuff?  _ She thought.

 

She knew she was good in a fight, excellent even, it’s why Madam P. made her one of her Seven in the first place. But she doubted she’d have been able to do half the stuff Olympus’ Seven were capable of, not when a festival overloaded her.

 

Someone tapped her shoulder. A couple years ago her instincts would have commanded her to draw her blade and slit the person’s throat, but that was then and this was now. This was Justine, not Nemesis-Child-3. 

 

So instead she opened her eyes and was greeted with the Varrian’s trademark smirk, his eyes glowing happily in the night.

 

“Mission complete” he whispered.

 

Justine nodded and moved to get up, only for Varrian to sit down besides her. 

 

She gave him a puzzled look, “Why are-”

 

“Got you these” he whispered, pulling a bouquet of roses from behind his back.

 

Justine squinted at him.

 

“Ok, stole you these.”

 

As if to confirm his admittance the sound of a Nymph shouting drunkenly about their overturned flower cart mingled with the echoing music.

 

Justine gave a small laugh and accepted the ill gotten gift. 

 

Varrian cleared his throat sheepishly “They’re white. As you can see. N-nothing too loud. Thought you’d like it that way.”

 

Justine smiled and took a big whiff of the fresh flowers’ scent, temporarily distracting her from the rest of the night.

 

”It’s starting soon” Varrian said.

 

The large clock atop one of the cities’ largest spires rang the chimes signally the arrival of midnight. Justine winced again, “The meeting of the Gods.”

 

Varrian nodded, “Moment of truth” he said before giving her a worried glance, “You ok staying to watch the show.”

 

Justine hesitated a moment in order to take another breath of the bouquet’s musk, “Yeah, I’m good.”

 

“Good” Varrian’s smile grew devilish, “That reminds me, I’ve got one last gift for you.”

  
****  
  
  


Aphrodite was BORED. Now it would be one thing if these horridly long meetings they held every solstice ACTUALLY got anything accomplished, but of course they didn’t. Then again she wasn’t sure what they were meant to accomplish anyways.

 

“I TOLD YOU THAT WAS ONE TIME!”

 

Ah yes, this again.  _ Yay. _

 

__ “OH YES  _ THAT  _ ONE TIME YOU, MY WIFE, AND MY SON TRAPPED ME IN A DAMN FISHING NET!”

 

“Should have built a second one” said her husband Hephaestus under his breath as he fiddled away at a contraption Aphrodite could only guess the use of. Well, assuming she gave a crap. Which she, in fact, did not.

 

Zeus shot his son a glare that could cause a mortal to burst into flames, “What was that son? If you wish to be heard than speak up.”

 

Hephaestus looked up from his machine for a moment before shaking his head and returning to it. Zeus huffed loudly in annoyance and went back to his favorite pastime, yelling at his siblings, namely Demeter who was eating a bowl of mortal cereal while in the divine halls.

 

Aphrodite began to tune out, as she always did around is point in their meetings. With no Titans or Giants coming to throw them into Tartarus it was back to the same old, same old. Argue, argue, pretend you’ve made peace, then _sur-fucking-prise_ _it’s argument round three bitch, hope you brought your boxing gloves!_

 

__ So yeah, she tuned it out, including the infuriated stare Artemis was sending her way.  _ Oh that better not be about what I think it is, oh come on Thalia does NOT want to be stuck a fifteen year old virgin for eternity and you know it girl.  _ Whatever, it wouldn’t be fixed here, just like everything.

 

As the debates raged in circles across the room, Aphrodite removed a perfect diamond shelled make-up mirror from her robes and starred absently into her own reflection. As a goddess she held dozens of personas at once, and so she allowed her mind to wander to these other lives. There was a part of her strutting down a walkway of a fashion show and another on the opposite side of the country experimenting with a new butch look.

 

_ Not bad, not bad, maybe Thalia IS onto something after all. _

 

__ A third version was lying on an apartment couch stuffing her face with cheetos and still looking gorgeous,  _ my kids would kill me if they saw that.  _ The fourth her was about to get some, going home from a magical (for her date) night and ready to slip into something more  _ comfortable  _ behind closed doors.  _ I’ll name that kid Paul. Don’t know why but I’m feeling a Paul coming, oh, and if they're a girl then Velvet would be such a-  _

 

__ “AND YOU APOLLO, KEEP IT IN YOUR ME DAMNED PANTS FOR ONCE, YOUR KIDS ARE TAKING UP A FOURTH OF THE CAMP BY NOW.”

 

“I CAN’T HELP IT IF I’VE TAKEN AFTER YOU DAD.”

 

“AND WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSE TO MEAN.”

 

“THE BASTARD MEANS YOU’RE A CHEATING BASTARD, THAT’S WHAT.”

 

Aphrodite rolled her eyes. If Hera was calling Apollo and the rest of her non children “bastards” again then this really was going to be a long and messy one.

 

_ Greeeeeaaaaat. _

 

__ “ I WILL NOT HAVE YOU DISHONOR ME IN MY OWN COURT.”

 

Hera practically jumped out of her seat in fury, “Dishonor?” She jabbed a finger at her ring. “After all this time not a year goes by when you don’t dishonor my name and the vows we took millenia ago.”

 

_ Enphase on millenia you crone, just fuck other people already. After all I spend more time with mortals then Ares nowadays, and he wasn’t even the husband YOU forced on me. _ All this ran through the goddess’ head. She didn’t say any of it though, she knew she’d just stir the pot she was waiting for to settle. No sense angering her  _ royal highness _ . Or Ares for that matter. Yeah, definitely not Ares.

 

Zeus groaned, not out of remorse but from tired annoyance, “Hera I-”

 

“Even with the fate of Olympus at stake you still eloped with the same harlot twice!”

 

“While still trying to kill my children when they were born BEFORE the pact” growled Hades. Being let back on Olympus at any time hadn’t done much to sunny his disposition. Aphrodite couldn’t blame him, before he only had to deal with his family once a year, now it was two. The joy.

 

Hera waved him off, “Yes, yes, enough of about your own infidelity, but now that the prophecy is finished I have no doubt my husband will pick up right where he left off. Aren’t you Zeus?”

 

The king of Olympus scoffed, “Does my wife think-”

 

“I bet you’ve popped another one of those little gremlins out already!”

 

She looked around the room wildly, most of the second generation glaring at whatever little trinket they were using to distract themselves with. “I bet half of you are making more right now aren’t you?”

 

Aphrodite quickly checked back in on her date.  _ I will neither confirm nor deny a total yes. _

 

__ As Hermes rose to give a meager defense for his children but was quickly shouted down by Hera, a small wind Nymph floated hastily into the room with a large plate of Ambrosia and began handing them out to all the gods.

 

Aphrodite immediately remembered her run in at the bakery and pulled out the apparently new flavor of Ambrosia she’d gotten. Ignoring the continuing arguments, which persisted even as their arguers took momentary pauses to stuff their faces, she took a large bite from the mystery square.

 

It was certainly, different. It’s taste was something she couldn’t quite pin down, something truly unusual for Ambrosia. It was an odd mixture of a multitude of flavors, some undesirably, most good, and why was peppermint the dominant one?

 

Aphrodite continued to munch,  _ well, I guess it’s ok, nothing amazing. Shame that kid broke his promise, he was so gracious, young and kind too.  _

 

__ Her wandering eyes scanned the council as they ate their comfort food. Dionysus wasn’t present, getting leave to stay at camp this time.  _ Lucky bastard.  _ Hestia refused any Ambrosia from the serving Nymph, to worried by the fighting to eat.  _ When is she going to learn that she’s the Last Olympian who still cares?” _

 

__ The goddess of love disappeared back into her other selves, one was down in the mortal city below in, taking in the festive lights and watching couples both budding and tested mingle through the snow and holiday music. What she wouldn’t give to be just that one and that one alone right now.

 

At this point Zeus and Hera’s argument had drawn Poseidon and Hades fully in as well, Demeter had hopped in too with her seasonal berating of Hades for stealing her daughter, and Apollo was being as indignant and but hurt about Hera’s treatment of him as ever.

 

__ Aries had dozed off in his chair at her side, and was somehow snoring louder than the arguments. Hermes was texting furiously on his phone, looking ready to storm out at any second. Maybe she’d join him. 

 

And that left Artemis...still staring holes in her head while she ate her own Ambrosia. Artemis rose to her feet.

 

_ Oh no. _

 

__ “If you could all put your ancient disagreements aside for one night we have more pressing matters” she snarled, taking a step closer to her.

 

_ Welp, here we go. Fucking try me bitch. _

 

“Aphrodite has yet again tried to breach the peace between our domains and tried to tempt MY hunters away from me.”

 

Aphrodite lazily rose to meet her, opened her mouth to give the same disinterested response she’d always given in these moments.

 

…..but nothing came out.

 

She tried to speak again, nothing.

 

Artemis raised an eyebrow, “Nothing to say for yourself?”

 

Aphrodite tried to retort back but found, well, well it wasn’t a sensation she knew, but was one she would later learn was the feeling of her throat closing up. Her hands went to her throat as it began to swell from the inside. Her connections to her other selves flickered, and then...it was a feeling the goddess never wanted to know again. She felt her other selves vanish, one leaving her date very much confused, as her body seemed to force itself into her true divine form.

 

The other gods stumbled back in surprise, Aries shooting wide awake, “Huh, Aph? What in Ha-”

 

There was screaming. Aphrodite finally found her voice and all she could do was scream. The Ambrosia square she was chewing refused to go down and then found itself spewing out of her mouth and onto the pure white marble floor. It’s remnants covered in golden ichor. The cramped, burning, sensation in her throat traveled to every endless inch of her divine form, wracking it with a pain she didn’t think she could ever feel. And then there was a pop.

Not a loud one surprisingly, something akin to the sound a ruptured soap bubble made, and with it the pain left her, leaving a sore ache all over her body.

 

Body?

 

Gone was the twenty foot twenty foot behemoth of a woman, and in its place was the body of a small, frightened, teenage girl who suddenly realized gravity was a thing and that she was currently floating where her giant head once was. She started falling, screaming too of course, that was apparently a theme now.

 

Artemis, her instincts only slightly winning out over her shock, scrambled to grab the falling girl, lowering her gently onto the ground.

 

The gods stood silently, mouths in various stages of hanging wide open. Hestia rushed from the hearth and to her side. She spoke uncertainty, “Aphrodite, is that you? Can you hear me?”

 

The girl, Aphrodite, tried and failed to pull herself to her feet, her whole body refusing to work properly. She tried to think but it was as if a strange cloud had coated her thoughts. She would later know this phenomenon as the human manifestation of terror. Right now she could only managed a single thought.

 

_ What the ever living shit. _

 

She was panting heavily, new lungs desperate to get a foothold in a new body. Shiny sticky sweat drenched her from head to toe through a new garb of clothing. She reached out in her cloudy mind for her other selves and...they were gone. It was only her.

 

She blinked away the black splotches in her vision till she saw Hestia, the normally calm and serene face they’d all know as a comfort was now marred in a look of concern and confusion being slowly beaten down by...something else.

 

The goddess of Hearth and Home opened her mouth to speak, but lost the words when she saw something. It was at that moment that same something, all warm and sticky, was felt rolling over Aphrodite’s bottom lip and chin before dropping to the floor.

 

Aphrodite slowly craned her neck down. It was a drop of blood. Dark. Red. Blood.

 

There was silence.

 

And then.

 

“HRGHEEEEGH”

 

Artemis’ vomited up her own square of Ambrosia, the splash raining on those on the floor. The goddess of the hunt clawed at her throat, this new mortal terror in her eyes, she fell to her knees and began to glow. 

 

Now Aphrodite, a god that lived longer than any of those present knew she should have had nothing to fear from looking upon a god’s true form. But still, something inside her, a deep and primal instinct she guessed, told her to look away.

 

So she did, just for moment, and when the light vanished she looked back to see the form of a girl in her late teens convulsing on the ground.

 

Zeus growled, “WHAT IS HAPPENING AND WHO IS-”

 

He was cut short by a shriek followed by a gurgle as Hera came crashing to the ground, bits of Ambrosia and Ichor streaming down her chin. Zeus reached to grab her, but stumbled as he began vomiting himself. The other gods quickly followed. Apollo fell rushing to his sister’s side. Aries and Hephaestus fell in near unison on either of her sides, leaving her and Hestia drenched in their family’s ichor.

 

Hades fell next, and for all Demeter ranted about him, she tried to grab him but fell all the same. Athena, seeing the bits of Ambrosia and quickly connecting the dots, tried to spit her square out but got knocked over by a flailing Poseidon.

 

And as her family fell around her Aphrodite finally put an name to the emotion that had now won the struggle on Hestia’s face, namely because she reflected it herself. Abject horror.

 

A booming voice that seemed both magical and mechanical in nature echoed through the room.

“UNAUTHORIZED MORTALS DETECTED IN PRIMARY CHAMBER”

 

“What?” she managed to squeak out of her new vocal cords.

 

“Oh shit” Hephaestus gurgled, his one good eye going as wide as it would go.

 

Hestia snapped, at least partially, out of her shock, “Wait, I give them clearance, I-”

 

The voice didn’t listen, ever since that son of Hermes stole the Lightning Bolt,  Zeus had Hephaestus install a security system only he had control over. One that would eject-

 

Aphrodite’s breath hitched. As another drop of red blood fell from her lips. Mortals.

 

_ Oh shi- _

 

__ A brilliant flash of light enveloped the entire throne room, and when it faded all that remained was a terrified ichor soaked Hestia and the sound of a drop of blood hitting the ground.

 

  
*****  
  


 

“Merry Christmas.”

 

Varrian removed a small white box tied up with a plain black ribbon and handed it to Justine. 

 

“Oh, Varrian you should-”

 

“Hey, hey, Mrs. P gave me my first paycheck yesterday, had to spend it on something.”

 

Justine shook her head, “But still you shouldn’t have, I didn’t even-wait hold on we get paychecks now?”

 

Varrian raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t know?”

 

“No, I thought it was just room and board.”

 

“Who told you that?”

 

“Greg.”

 

They both went silent, Justine’s expression morphing into a scowl.

 

“Wanna go beat up Greg tomorrow?” Varrian asked.

 

“Justice will be mine.” She growled darkly, prompting both teens to burst into a fit of laughter.

 

“Well come on, open it.”

 

“But I just told you-”

 

Varrian waved her off, “If it makes you feel better you can take shopping for with your freshly-beaten-out-of-Greg pocket money and buy me whatever I like.” He said with a wink.

 

Justine squinted, “Was that your attempt at asking me out on a date?”

 

“Did it work?”

 

“Barely.”

 

“Nice.”

 

He made an exaggerated fist pump victory pose that Justine found more charming then she’d like to admit. Sadly the moment was promptly ruined once more by another spike in volume from the party.

 

Noticing Justine shrinking in her seat like a cat shrinks from a puddle of water, he gestured once again to the present in her hand.

 

Justine unwrapped the ribbon, pried open the box, and let out a gasp, “Oh Varrian.”

 

From the box she removed a pair of shiny new custom ordered marble white noise cancelling headphones. 

 

“Look on the sides.”

 

On the backs of both speakers were darkened gold and black colored scales. The scales of justice.

 

“I love them.” 

 

“Try em on.”

 

She nodded excitedly and did just that. The second she put them on all the noise of the city of gods vanished.

 

“Do they fit?”

She gave him a confused look.

 

Varrian sighed and repeated himself, “Do. They. Fit.”

 

“I LOVE THEM.” She shouted.

 

Varrian reeled back.

 

“AM I YELLING? I CAN BARELY HEAR ANYTHING.”

 

He broke out into a laugh.

 

“I AM YELLING, AREN’T I?”

 

He leaned in close and lifted one of the speakers from her ear, “No, You’re perfect.”

 

Justine blushed as he placed the headphones back on. “YOU FUCKING FLIRT.”

 

Varrian smiled, “Are you doing that on purpose now?”

 

“WHAT?”

 

He scoffed and waved her off playfully. Justine reached down into her bag and pulled out an old MP3 player and excitedly inserted the headphone jack into it, pressed play, and let out a sigh of contentment. The lingering noise of the party dissolved completely for her. It was just her and her music. Varrian looked to her, saw the stress visibly draining from her muscles, the smile breaking out over her face, the enrapturing way the snow landed on her chocolate hair, giving it a stark contrast.

Justine’s eyes caught something, their gaze darting up to the sky. Varrian broke out of his daze and caught them too. His smile only widened, “And there’s our gift to the world” he mused.

 

Down from the highest heights of Olympus, plummeting to the mortal world like shooting stars, fell the forms of twelve newly mortal gods, ejected from their own home by the security system they installed.

 

They’d have to track ‘em down soon, the workload had just begun. 

 

_ No rest for the wicked  _ he thought.

 

Something soft tickled his neck and he looked down with wide eyes to see Justine leaning up against him, her head on his shoulder, smiling up at the sight.

 

_ Eh, the others can tag in for a bit. _

 

And with that worry settled, Varrian slung his arm around Justine and joined her in her “stargazing.”

 

It was at this time that the other denizens of Olympus, the ones that had so rudely been ruining the lovely night for his partner, were taking part in the boss’ Ambrosia. He could hear the obnoxious laughter and drunken singing already fading into cries of pain and screams of panic.

 

He spared a glance at Justine. His gift did the trick. The chaos unfolding behind them fell on deaf ears. She didn’t wince at the rising terror, instead she just kept smiling out at the sky. 

 

_ As it should be.  _

 

Letting out a contented sigh as his ears caught onto the song that still played over the cities’ speakers as pandemonium raged through it’s streets. The one holiday song the gods elected to  _ not  _ change.  _ Silent Night. _

 

_ Boom, nailed it! _ He thought gleefully, pulling Justine in a little closer.

  
  
******  
  


Claireese was happy. 

 

No Titans. No Giants. Those ghost emperors turned out to be a prank.  _ Even I could have called that.  _ No other super-human world ending threats, and NO quests. 

 

The Claireese of about five years ago would find all of this peace utterly boring.  _ Let’s fight stuff!  _ She’d probably start yelling. But after the shit that went down in TWO back to back apocalypses, she’d take peace for as looooooonnnggg as i’d stick around. Though she did still like fighting stuff. She wasn’t a wimp.

 

She took a long sip of her fresh coffee as she strolled down the snowy city streets, all alight with greens and reds for the holidays. A satisfied smile that would have made her twelve year old self vomit stretched across her face.

 

_ You know what? I’m gonna say it. Well, think it. This is going to be the best Christmas- _

 

What happened next, if this were a cartoon and not a fanfiction, would have naturally been accompanied by the sound of an abruptly stopping record. Thunder broke overhead and three comets of white light came barreling down from the sky and crash landed in the alleyway mere feet from Claireese. The impact knocked the coffee right out of her hands, spilling it everywhere.

 

Silence. Then, painful moaning. Claireese, her left hand now vacant of soothing beverages, clenched into a fist as she strode down the alley to find, half buried in the garbage of a turned over dumpster, the barely conscious bodies of her freshly mortal father, Hephaestus, and Aphrodite.

 

Letting out the deepest sigh of resignation imaginable she went to help them out.

 

_ And there goes my fucking holidays. _


	3. Athena. Analysis!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gods get off to a crappy start.

**Chapter 3: Athena, Analysis!**

 

“Athena, Analysis!” Cried Poseidon, jumping to his feet mere moments after they hit the ground.

 

“We’re mortals now apparently” she groaned out, pushing away the broken remains of the park bench they crash landed on.

 

“I can see that Athena!” He thrusted out one of his hands as if to summon his Trident, but nothing came. 

 

It was then she noticed the form he’d been forced to take. A seventeen year old boy with scraggly black hair, a faded tan, and wearing his usual cargo shorts and T-shirt. He tried to summon his trident a few more frantic times before shouting at her again.

“At least tell me where in Hades we are!”

 

“Did someone call my name?”

 

Hades, who was now in the body of eighteen year old scrawny white boy wearing a button up flannel and brown corduroys, staggered up from the rubble, took a single, disoriented step, and crashed back to the ground. 

 

“Ah my leg!”

 

Poseidon groaned indignantly and went to pull his older brother up. 

 

Athena shakily rose to her own feet and surveyed their surroundings. Being midnight,  _ still in North America then,  _ the park was completely empty save for the silhouettes of a few joggers on the other side of a nearby river. They didn’t seem perturbed by the sudden triple comet strike in their peripheral vision, so at least that meant the mist was still working. To their backs was an old cityscape, older than usual for America. Best guess would be…would be...

 

For the first time in her life Athena found herself unable to think clearly. All the pieces were there, the name should come to her, she should be able to tell them at a fraction of a glance, but, nothing. 

 

_ Come on think, think- _

 

Nothing came, it was as if her mind, the crown jewel of all her power, was submerged in a thick soup. Just then a raccoon, who had been so very rudely awakened and then promptly evicted from it’s home under the bench that broke the three gods’ fall, darted out from the rubble and skittered over her foot with a hiss. 

Athena snapped to attention with a yelp and brandished her spear....that just like Poseidon's trident refused to appear. The racoon tilted it’s head, confused why the strange sixteen year old girl was attempting to stab him with air, and promptly left to find a midnight snack.

 

_ Get a grip on yourself Athena and-what was I just doing? _

 

Lowering her arm, she starred out at the river, a look of newly discovered confusion on her face.  _ I was thinking about something just now, before that animal, what was- _

 

It was at this moment that Athena, goddess of knowledge, wisdom, and strategy made first contact with the human phenomenon known as “Losing Your Train of Thought” naturally, Athena found this moment of intellectual ineptitude to utterly terrifying. 

 

“Earth to Athena, do you read me?” Poseidon said.

 

Athena jumped once again as Poseidon trudged past her, a hobbling Hades slung over his shoulder.

 

“Just get me to your damned water already and fix my leg.” Growled Hades through gritted teeth.

 

Poseidon groaned, “As you command  _ your highness _ ” he mocked sarcastically.

 

Athena followed the two brothers in a daze as they stumble towards the riverbank, all the while continuing to fight with her newly human brain. Everything was so, muddled. Just a mere few minutes ago she had been sitting in the throne room, pretending she cared about her father’s inane thousandth-something affair while a few dozen other versions of herself ponder problems and equations that would leave any mortal and most gods utterly confused. Then-

 

It snapped back at her, like she’d flipped a switch and shone light on something she shouldn’t have. She fell to her knees.

 

The feeling came rushing back to her.  _ No air. The first time I ever needed air and I couldn’t find it. Fire in my throat, in my chest, everywhere.  _ Over forty different versions of herself across the world, feeding back into one infallible matrix, all in perfect synch, all crashing back into her at once.  _ All of them gone. All of them burning.  _ Athena began to tremble.

 

“Athena” spoke a calm voice, a gentle grip on her shoulder accompanying it.

 

Her eyes leaped to her side, Hades hunched at her side. She expected his eyes to be some shadowed shade to fit the King of the Underworld, but instead she found a serene light hazel. He sighed, a small bit of relief coming with it.

 

“Thought we lost you there for a second.” 

 

She pushed herself to her feet, slowering and shaking far more violently than she would have liked, “Let’s go.”

 

The three made their way to the river bank and Athena, still shaking,  _ get a grip _ , helped Poseidon lower Hades into a sitting position and dip his broken leg in.

 

As Poseidon went to work, Athena, by some primordial instinct of her new body, began to curl up into a ball with her knees pressed against her chest, a chest that she was just now noticing was pounding. Her heart was pounding. She had one of those now apparently.

 

_ It’s already been minutes. Stop it.  _ Her heart didn’t stop pounding.  _ You’ve shrugged off spears to the chest and swords to the neck. This is nothing.  _ Her heart didn’t listen to it’s new master, in fact, her whole body was still trembling.  _ YOU ARE THE GODDESS OF WISDOM I COMMAND YOU TO GET A GRIP… _ her heart kept pounding. Perhaps a bit faster now.

 

She let out a whimper that her uncles no doubt heard. She stared down at the water’s surface. At her reflection. She looked so different. Her black locks now a dirty blonde, her square chin now rounded. Her cheeks a fair bit chubbier and her shoulders far from squared. The only feature that remained prominent was her pair stark grey eyes.

 

“Is that suppose to happen?” 

 

She looked to Hades, his teeth grit in discomfort as he stared down at his submerged leg. Correction, his still broken submerged leg.

 

Poseidon, his hands clasped firmly around his older brother’s leg, sat, mouth agape like a fish. His powers were gone.

 

He frantically looked towards his niece, his usual casual confidence cracked straight down the middle, “Athena” he said, a rising fear in his voice, “Analysis.”

 

For the first time in the last few minutes, for what had already felt like eternity to Athena, it seemed a neuron finally fired properly in her brain and the first rational thought popped into her head. Her human head.

 

She swallowed, “Our powers are gone, just like our godhood.”

 

A palpable silence hung over the three mortals huddled against the edge of a river in the dead of night, in the middle of the winter, in a city the goddess of knowledge was too shaken to identify.  

 

As if to remind them of that second fact, a chill breeze rippled across the water. “Well don’t just sit there! Get me out of the water before this cold sends me back to my kingdom the hard way!”

 

Poseidon for the first time in Athena’s now highly fallible memory, didn’t question his brother’s demands and pulled him onto dry land.

 

“Welp,” Hades groaned, repositioning himself at Poseidon’s side. “No sense freezing out here. Let’s go.”

 

“Where?” Athena whimpered out, her body shaking now more than ever.

 

Hades rolled his eyes in frustration, “To find me a fucking hospital, that’s where. Now go!”

  
  
  
  


Hera’s peaceful five second dirt nap was disturbed by, like many things in her long life, her husband’s voice.

 

“Athena, analysis!” Zeus yelled, only to be met with the angry meul of an alley cat and a slash of tiny claws against his face.

 

“Gaah, how dare you VERMIN!”

Hera laboriously cracked open her eyes only to be met with a sting of unnatural light. Whenever her husband had bedded some mortal or otherwise wench, ruined one of her favorite cities with a storm when he was angry, or snuck out at night to play poker with Tom Cruz and Danny Devito, she always said she had a headache. Now that wasn’t exactly something a god could get but, you know, dramatic effect and all that. This was different now. Her whole head felt like it was begin weighed down by a brick and ready to split open. 

She tried opening her eyes again, even slower this time, while facing the ground. Paved cracked street, tall buildings close on both sides, more than a few pieces of trash strewn about, a bum wrapped in rags and still sleeping despite the noise of her husband and dozens of passing cars.  _ Ok, city _ . Her headache flared and she clutched her forehead, feeling an unnatural bump.  _ Ah, don’t think, don’t think! Thinking hurts. _

 

A set of firm hands grasped her shoulders and gently lifted her to her feet, “Thanks honey” she forced out.

 

The young mortal face of Hermes swam into her vision, “Erm, You're welcome?”

 

_ Ok, no. _

 

She pushed him off, more harshly then she probably should have, and nearly fell face first into a puddle of something that was most definitely not water.

 

“RRROOOOOWWW”

 

“AH HA!”

 

Zeus proudly held the flailing form of a tabby cat above his head in one hand. 

 

Hera glared at him, “Zeus” she said coldly.

 

Her husband, her  _ sixteen  _ year old husband, finally seemed to notice she was there and rolled his eyes, “Yes dear, what is it now.”

 

He sounded so, so  _ done.  _

 

Hera opened her mouth but a car blasted by the entrance to the alley, music blaring and lights flaring. Her headache seized up again.  _ Oh sweet Je-  _

 

She didn’t finish that thought as her knees gave out. Hermes caught her before she hit the ground.

 

Zeus started to noticed his wife’s condition, along with the large black and blue welt growing on her left temple. It was then that he made the connection that gods couldn’t get bruises which, inevitably, drew his attention  _ away _ from his wounded wife and to, what else, himself. He tapped his cheek, where the cat had scratched him, and looked at his fingers.

 

Blood.  _ Red  _ blood.

 

A passerby right then could have mistaken him for one of his statues as he kept his eyes in a deadlock with the liquid. He didn’t notice when the tabby cat stopped squirming, when it lay dead in his vice grip. When he finally did, he tossed it over his shoulder and into a pile of discarded trash.

 

He scowled as he wiped the blood on his suit. Wait, not a suit, a letterman jacket for a place called Goede High School. This only served to make him more angry.

 

Even in her damaged state Hera still felt the anger rising in him and reflexively cringed.

 

“Alright talk” he shouted. “What is going on? Was this your doing?” He pointed accusingly at his wife, “Another attempt to usurp ME?”

 

“What?” Hera responded, speech slightly slurred. Hermes shot her a look of worry and lightly grazed his hand over her bruise. She shut her eyes tight and whined in pain.

 

“That’s not good. Slurred speech is not good. We should get her someplace safe.”

 

Zeus went red in the face, “I’m not done-”

 

“I dizin’t do it. Honney.”

 

“Zeus, dad, stop it” Hermes spat. “Hera didn’t do this. If she did she certainly wouldn’t be a human in some grungy back alley nursing a concussion.” 

 

“She could have screwed up whatever scheme caused this.”

 

“Oh for the love of-look just help your wife while I figure out where in Hades we are.”

 

Hermes unceremoniously shoved Hera into his step dad’s arms, “Make sure to keep her head up” and stormed out of the alley and onto the sidewalk.

 

Zeus, left alone with his barely conscious wife huffed in indignation, “The nerve of that-”

 

Hera let out a moan and her head lolled backwards and her body sagged in his arms. He struggled to keep her steady with one hand while he held her head straight with the other. Up close, he got his first good look at her bruise and it was, well,  _ bad _ . It was a whole rainbow of sickly colors that stretched across half her forehead. 

 

“Hera?” He asked.

 

Her eyes fluttered open and he was surprised, not to see her normal piercing irisis of emerald, but instead saw the shade of an unfocused, lazy blue, sky. 

 

“Zeuz?” She muttered.

 

“Yeah?” He replied, thoughts of his previous accusation leaving him.

 

“Vhat the Hads happpened?” 

 

“I-I don’t know.”

 

WIth a groan her eyes fell closed, her skin paler than he’d ever remembered seeing it. A thought occurred to Zeus, and then, fear. Whoever caused this, whatever happened, the fact was that Hera was human now, and humans didn’t often survive such blows to the head. She...she could die.

 

_ I’m human now. I could die!  _ He thought.

 

Hermes popped back into the alley, “Hey, hey, hey ma, listen to me!” He brought his face close to Hera’s, “Ma, Ma, look at me, don’t close your eyes just look at me. “Hera sluggishly complied. Hermes smiled, “There we go, there we go, just keep listening to my voice. Now look at Zeus.” Hera did so. “Good, now don’t take your eyes off him.”

 

“I nevor doo.”

 

He looked to Zeus, “Don’t be too rough with her, but do keep her from nodding off.”

 

“Did you find out where we are?” Asked Zeus, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as his wife’s new eyes starred almost unblinkingly at him in an attempt to stay awake.

 

Hermes smiled, “Good news, we were only flung down into New York, just about a half hour from Olympus. We can-”

 

“Good” Zeus growled. “Time for revenge.” Before he could march himself into the middle of the street, Hermes held him back, “Wait, wait, wait. We’re missing three fourths of the council and one of the three we  _ do  _ have is in, shall we say, a  _ distressing  _ state.”

 

Zeus glanced back down at Hera, at her eyes, then back at Hermes, “That’s exactly why we need to go up there, find who did this to us, and rip. Out. Their. Spines.”

 

Hermes sighed and rang his hands through his short matted hair, “We don’t know who it is we’re dealing with and I am NOT going against them like this, we need back up.”

 

Zeus narrowed his eyes, “And where do we find that?”

 

Hermes smiled mischievously, “Just follow me.” He stepped forward, back into the streets of Manhattan with the former King and Queen of the Gods in tow, “Let’s go pay your nephew a visit.”

  
  
  
  


“Athena Anal-”

 

“Will you stop yelling dad!” 

 

Claireese yanked her father, who was currently younger than her, out of a trash, “Seriously do you want to be a beacon to whatever monsters are crawling around here?”

 

“Bring ‘em on!” He yelled, took one shambling step, and promptly tripped over his untied shoelaces.

 

“Where are we?” Aphrodite mumbled.

 

The goddess was shaking, part from the cold, part from lingering shock, as she leaned up against the side of a brick building towards the exit of the alley. She was covered with multiple bruises and scratches across her body, much of which was revealed as the only clothing she was wearing were a tube top and booty shorts...in winter.  _ Yikes _ . She was also covered in a noticeable layer of grime from the garbage bag she ripped open upon landing. She looked too dazed to notice, and since Claireese was NOT going to be the one to pull the pin of that grenade, ignorant to it she would stay.

 

“Sacramento California.” Claireece grunted as she pulled Aries to his feet again.

 

“Just great.” Hephaestus muttered, leaning against the same wall as Aphrodite, “Clear across the country. The one time I WANTED something I made to not work it works too well.”

 

“So anyone gonna explain why you guys slammed into garbage right next to me?”

 

“Wait garbage?!” Aphrodite looked herself over and let out a squeal.

 

_ Welp.  _ Claireese thought.  _ That didn’t last long. _

 

Hephaestus sighed, “Someone somehow turned the whole bloody council human and the security system ejected us.”

 

“Hestia was alright” Aphrodite murmured as she tried to rub off the grime from her arms. 

 

Aries scowled, “I don’t know what funny guy did this but when I get my hands on him I’ll, I’ll-” Aries punched the brick wall with all his newfound teenage might.

 

“Fuck” He shouted, clutching his hand.

 

Claireece sighed, “Ok, ok, fuck I hate this.” She muttered a few more explicatives as she pulled out a cell phone. A dangerous item for a half-blood to use, and chose a number from the contacts. She started pacing around the alleyway as it began to connect, her eyes darting every which way, her free-hand was clenched, ready to summon her spear.

 

The phone connected, “Hello?”

 

Herface lit up despite the stress, “Chris! Yeah, buddy, pal, best boyfriend in the world! Say, do you mind picking me up and my,  _ cough, _ three friends up real quick?” 

 

There was a long pause, then a sigh, “ _ Half-blood related? _ ”

 

Claireece scanned each of the fallen gods individually, “Something like that.”

 

Another sigh, “ _ Alright, meet me at the usual place in ten.” _

 

Claireece smiled, “Like I said. Best. Boyfriend. Ever.” 

 

There was a chuckled on the other end of the line before the daughter of Aries hung up, her face hardening on the spot.

 

“Alright guys, let’s get a move on. I can give you guys a ride to New Rome where you can figure out what's going on in safety.”

 

“ _ Safety?”  _ Aries repeated derisively through gritted teeth, one hand still holding the other as it throbbed in pain.

 

The other three ignored him, Aphrodite because she was still internally panicking and the other two because they had more important things to deal with.

 

“I’ve got a problem” Hephaestus said, the slightest hint of an embarrassed blush on his cheeks, “It seems I can’t walk.”

 

Claireece shot him a concerned look.

 

“Crippled it seems” he said.

 

Realization dawned on Claireece face, “Ah, right, forgot. Thought, y’know, you being a god and all it didn’t really-”

 

“Matter all that much?” He finished.

 

Claireece looked away sheepishly.

 

Hephaestus looked down at his fragile new mortal legs and gave a weak chuckle, “I guess it didn’t.”

 

“I’ll carry you.”

 

“You have my thanks my niece.”

 

Hephaestus clumsily climbed onto Claireece’s back. The half-blood looked to Aphrodite who still seemed transfixed in trying to scrape off the filth, like it was some hoard of ants trying to eat her alive.

 

“Aph, can you hear me?” She grabbed the goddess by the wrist which seemed to snap her out of it. The second the two women locked eyes a lump caught in Claireece throat.

 

_ She looks just like-  _ She shook her head, the slightest frown on her face as she turned away. “Let’s get going, follow me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, Chapter 4: Gods Don't Ask for Directions


	4. Gods Don't ask for Directions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, Artemis wanders around in a cornfield for a couple hours. Much fun. Such thrill.

 

Artemis hated silence.

 

Now that might sound odd for the goddess of the hunt to say, after all she spent her days trekking through the quiet underbellies of forests in search of her kills. But that was  _ quiet _ , not  _ silent _ . There was a big difference.

 

The goddess rolled onto her side and tried to pull herself up but found nothing strong enough to give her a grip. 

 

There was never, ever, anything, _ silent _ , about her kingdom. Every second of every day she could hear it, the symphony of nature. Squirrels scampering up their trees, deers grazing on grass recently water by the rains the night before. Boars thundered, wolves howled in the distance, the winds blew lazily through the blankets of emerald leaves.

 

Artemis tried to push herself up with her right arm, which proceeded to bend the  _ wrong  _ way. She screamed in pain and fell face first into a puddle of mud. 

 

“Artemis, Artemis!”  

 

That was her brother’s voice, higher than it was before but definitely him, she didn’t really care at the moment. What she cared about was what came after. Nothing. She slapped the back of her head with her good hand. Still nothing.

 

Even up in the realm of her father, even when she was being crushed under the weight of sky, or exiled to the place of her birth by Gaia, she could still hear it. The quiet steady beat of the forest's heart. The Voice of the Wild. It was always there, always present. But now, now there was silence.

 

Apollo crouched down into her field of vision, his hair was dark now, blending in almost perfectly with the night sky. 

 

“Where does it hurt?”

 

“Artemis didn’t hear him, every ounce of her being searching desperately for some trace,  _ any  _ trace of the wild in the world around her. Nothing, nothing,  _ silence _ .

 

“Artemis please say something!” Apollo was shaking her now, not hard enough to jostle her still very broken arm, but enough to draw her attention away from the void in her senses.

 

It was then that the pain hit again.

 

_ Mother of- _

 

She bit down on her good hand to avoid another scream of pain.

 

“Careful, careful, just take slow, easy breaths.”

 

He carefully poked at her tender arm. She winced every time but stayed quiet, taking note that even in the darkness she could see her brother’s hands were shaking. Trying to distract herself from both the silence around her and the pain in her arm, she looked around at what the limited moonlight showed her. They wee in a clearing surrounded corn, lots and lots of corn. Middle America it was then.

 

“You’re gonna need a cast for this before we go anywhere” he muttered.

 

“No shit sherlock, coulda told you that much from the pained screams.”

 

They both turned to see another person, a girl about seventeen, emerge, or rather gracefully stumble, out of the wall of corn to their left. 

 

“Demeter?” Apollo asked.

 

“The one and only, nephew.”

 

Demeter grabbed several stocks of corn and yanked them from the ground.

 

“Give me a few minutes” she said, then, ignoring the mud, slid down to the ground, legs criss-crossed, and started twisting the stocks together. Within a few minutes she’d created a slightly shoddy, but still functioning, sling for Artemis’ arm.

 

“I-didn’t know you could weave” Apollo said.

 

Demeter gave a smile, her pearly white teeth catching a slight glint from the moonlight, “Not as good as your sister but it’ll do, now, let’s get going.”

 

She stood up and, for the briefest of moments, Artemis saw something. Demeter always prided herself on being the “Cool Aunt” the only one of the original seven aside from Hestia that wasn’t completely crazy. Artemis always appreciated this part of her, but right then, when the moonlight played across her face, she saw a look in her eyes. A look of anxiety, of fear.

 

As Apollo helped his sister to her feet their aunt walked forward towards the rest of the corn, laying a hand softly on one of the stalks. Demeter bit her lip.

 

Waiting, the goddess of the hunt looked down at her arm, broken and human.

 

_ What did these people do to us? _

 

“This way” Demeter commanded. “I don’t need to be a god to know my way around a corn field. Now get!” And with that the elder goddess marched off through the rest of the field.

 

Apollo groaned and shakily pulled his sister to her feet, “Do you think you can walk?” 

 

Artemis, good arm slung over her twin’s shoulders, took a tentative step forward. “Y-yeah” She managed to say.

 

Artemis could always see in the dark, how else could she hunt the animals of the night? But it was impenetrable to these new human eyes, and as such she had to strain to see the worry in her brother's eyes.

 

“Well come on, let’s go.” He muttered, “Don’t want to leave Demeter waiting.”

 

“Wait brother.”

 

“Yes sister?”   
  


Artemis bit her lip, “You, you know the beat of the wild?”

 

“The tune of your domain? The one I always catch you humming?”

 

She nodded, “I-I can’t hear it.”

 

His eyes widened.

 

“Do you-” Her face burned red with indignation, “Think you could hum it for me?”

Apollo paused, then smiled. Despite his now mortal form, his teeth remained a perfect white, “Of course.”

 

As they took their first steps through the path Demeter cleared, Apollo began humming a low, airy tune. It started out bad, off key and strained, clearly the god of music had to get used to fleshy vocal cords, but after a few false starts he began with earnest.

 

Artemis, body aching from the pain of broken bones and mind shaken by the loss of a sound ingrained into her being since the moment of her birth, leaned into her brother’s side as they disappeared into the cornfield after their aunt.

 

* * *

  
  
  


Boston, they had landed in Boston. Athena would have liked to have pretended she’d figured it out from the unique street layouts or from one of the numerous shop’s she had memorized the names of when she was the goddess of knowledge, but she hadn’t. In actuality she only figured out where they were when they finally found the hospital, with the words  _ Boston Medical _ emblazoned on it.

 

So Athena found herself, at two in the morning, sitting in a truly uncomfortable waiting room chair surrounded by about a dozen people who had gotten themselves injured by Aphrodite knows what idiot things mortals got up to on friday nights, and feeling completely and utterly  _ exhausted _ . And despite having memorized every word and their definitions, in every existing language, by the time she was a week old, she hadn’t truly understood what that particular word meant till now.

 

Her whole body seemed to just,  _ sag _ . Her eyelids drooped if she didn’t try to keep them open. Her arms and legs felt like they were strapped with dead weight. If it was any small comfort, which it wasn’t, Poseidon didn’t look much better off. 

 

Trekking through the late night streets of Boston while half carrying a wounded Hades was not what she’d call a pleasant experience, especially when it was nearly freezing out and one wrong turn down an alleyway could have very well gotten one of them stabbed for the mortal money they didn’t have. 

 

_ Wouldn’t that have been a unique ending to the gods of Olympus? _

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

Athena nearly jumped, lost in her thoughts. Poseidon looked at her with a look of genuine concern. It was almost creepy how much he looked like his son Percy, a spitting image if not for his slightly lighter hair. The two could pass as twins now if they tried. 

 

Athena sighed, “Awful, though probably still better than Hades.”

 

“You should get some sleep.”

 

Athena glared at him suspiciously, but lost her train of thought when a nurse entered the waiting room.

 

“Malcolm and Alana Jackson?”

 

Athena’s glare turned into a scowl, if that night wasn’t bad enough, Poseidon managed to come up with a better cover story for the three of them before she could. They were currently posing as the nonexistent Malcolm and Alana, siblings visiting their cousin, Alexander Di Angelo, for the holidays. They were here because Alexander broke his leg when falling out of his house window, something that wasn’t  _ totally  _ inaccurate, and now here they were.

 

“Yes” Poseidon replied.

The nurse scurried over to them, “Your cousin is going to be fine and is getting his cast made now, he can be released in the morning.”

 

Athena sighed, “That’s good.”

 

“He also said to “Not wait up for him” and to give you this.” She handed Poseidon a folded up piece of paper.

 

“He did, did he.” Poseidon murmured. “Well thank you dear.”

 

“Don’t mention it” she replied cheerily before moving onto the next patient.

 

Athena leaned closer to her uncle, “Don’t wait up? He doesn’t actually expect us to split up at a time like this.”

 

“Hold on let’s just see what his note has to say.”

 

Poseidon unfolded the note, “Yes Athena, splitting up is exactly what I meant.”

 

“Bullshit he did not write that.”

 

“You wanna read it?” Poseidon handed her the note.

 

She began to read, “Yes Athena, split-Gods Dammit.” She moaned, but kept going:

 

_ We can’t afford to waste much time. Someone or something is clearly gunning for the gods and I doubt whoever they are would be content to let us bumble around freely, we need to be prepared. Written below is the address for an apartment I own in the city. It’s stocked up with plenty of supplies and weapons. Gather them and we’ll set out tomorrow for Camp Halfblood to meet with Dionysus, hopefully he still has his divinity to work with, and ask the Oracle what in Me is going on. If Zeus and the others are ok they’ll head there or to New Rome if that’s closer. See you tomorrow, your uncle and brother, Hades. _

 

_ P.S. Don’t die, I can only imagine how much paper work that’ll be for me. _

 

Poseidon rolled his eyes, “Well, guess we at least have a plan, let’s head out.”

 

Athena grabbed his arm as he stood, “Wait so we’re just going?”

 

“I’ve learned not to argue with the logic of either of my brothers. Besides, you got a better plan?”

 

Athena went to retort but found herself without one. She was the goddess of battle strategy, the winner of wars, and by her estimates, one of the few things keeping Olympus afloat. But right now, when she needed a plan and fast, she was coming up empty handed.

 

_ Fucking mortal brain. _

 

“Fine, let’s get going.”

 

Checking out from the hospital, they stepped back out into the cold Boston air. Poseidon cleared his throat and spoke, “Now, any bets on how many dead bodies we find in the god of death’s apartment?”

 

Athena snorted, “8.”

 

“Coward, I’m going with 9.”

 

“And just what are we betting?”

 

Poseidon awkwardly reached into his pockets and found nothing, “Uh-” He pulled out Hades’ note, “Autograph from the King of the Underworld.”

 

Athena rolled her eyes, “Let’s just go.”

 

“Yeah let’s.”

 

And with that most awkward interaction between the two added onto the pile with all the others they’d had, they started down the frigid Boston streets towards Hades’ home. Completely and utterly unaware of the creature that was tailing them. 

 

A single unassuming spider scurried out the door before it closed. It looked left, looked right, then began it’s crawl after the gods. After Athena.

  
  


* * *

 

“Demeter, aunty, may I ask a question?” Asked Apollo. 

 

Demeter turned with a tight smile, “Yes dear, anything.”

 

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’re not lost?”

 

“Honey I  _ planted  _ this cornfield….tangentially, at least. The point is I  _ know  _ where I’m going.”

 

Demeter tripped on an uneven bit of ground and slammed face first into a puddle of mud. Apollo, still supporting his sister and not wanting to ruin his looks, made a show of trying to help her up but did relatively little. Demeter, instead, did the heavy lifting herself and pushed herself to her feet.

 

“Just trying to get closer to the land is all!” She said with a strained laugh.

 

“You can’t hear the land can you?”

 

The two moved their attention to Artemis. “You can’t hear the grain or the land, can you?” She said.

 

Demeter swallowed a lump in her throat, “No, of course I can, it’s just, there’s interference is all.”

 

“Demeter.”

 

“Yes?”   
  


“I can’t hear the wilds.”

 

Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak but Artemis cut her off.

 

“I can’t hear the moon or stars either! Just admit it, you can’t feel your domain either!”

 

“But it’s right here!”

 

Demeter grabbed one of the stalks of corn and yanked it close to her. “How could I not hear it?” She demanded. She wanted it to come off as derisive, some stupid question to shut them up. But it came out genuine.

 

“It’s always been so loud.” She muttered, stroking the stalk lovingly. “And when I’m in places like this, it’s so loud I can’t even think, but-” tears started to drip from her eyes and onto the corn.

 

“Aunt Demeter,” Artemis said calmly, “Be honest, do you know where we are going?”

 

Demeter paused a moment, then sighed in resignation, “No” she said quietly “I don’t.”

 

Apollo sighed, “Now what?”

A chill ran down Artemis’ spine, an instinct she was worried had disappeared with the sound of the hunt. 

“We get down.”

 

“What?” Apollo asked.

 

“I SAID WE GET DOWN!”

 

Artemis tackled her twin brother to the ground as what looked like a cannonball made of wheat shot out from the rows of corn, sailed over their heads, and hit Demeter square in the chest.

 

She fell back into the mud with a scream. The cannonball unfurled into a mess of snaking wild grain that quickly restrained the struggling goddess. What appeared to be a bulbous representation of a head loomed over it’s prisoner and cracked a crooked smile as a wheezing laugh reverberated from every inch of it’s crooked body. Karopi, the sworn enemies of the goddess of grain.

 

Artemis’ old instincts kicked back into full gear and for a brief moment she felt like herself again. She sprung from the ground and kicked the Karopi across its face. A kick from the goddess of the Hunt would have critically wounded the grain spirit, but one coming from the mortal Artemis did little more than divert it’s attention to her.

 

_ Well shit. _

 

Reflexes remaining sharp, Artemis rolled across the muddy earth in time to dodge a jagged fist of unprocessed wheat. She reached for her knife, she didn't have one. 

_ Because of course I don’t. _

 

The Karopi roared, it’s fist splitting into two smaller tendrils that both shot forward at its opponent. Artemis did a once over of their trajectory, noticed the tendril coming from the left was slightly behind, and took a chance. Letting her instincts, honed over millennia of hunting beasts that would make the proudest of men quake in fear, take control. She tucked and rolled to the left, avoiding the right tendril.

 

However, there were two factors her instincts failed to account for. One, her broken arm. Being an immortal goddess and all that jazz meant she’d never had to deal with the limitations brought by a broken limb. Her arm, laying limply in it’s uncomfortable makeshift sling shifted clumsily as she jerked to the ground. She winced, delaying her movement ever so slightly. Second, and a fact that Artemis herself had, due to the darkness around her and spending her time as a mortal leaning into her brother for support, not noticed. Her new human body was  _ significantly  _ taller than the form she usually took while on the hunt. 

 

 

As a result her roll to safety was far too slow and unbalanced. The left tendril caught up with her and smashed her into the ground, broken arm first. Artemis squealed in pain. She tried to lash out with her good arm but the grain of the Karopi snaked around her body and rooted her into the ground just like Demeter.

 

Apollo leapt to her aid but got backhanded by the first tendril which proceeded to root  _ him  _ into the ground as well.

The main body of the Karopi cackled at its victory, two thin hands slithered out of its mouth and wrapped themselves around Demter’s thrashing form and slowly began lifting her towards it’s maw. Demeter screamed in terror, and then-

 

_ Thunk. _

 

The tell tale sound of an arrow shot through the air and pierced the Karopi’s side.  _ Wait, not an arrow, a bolt. A Crossbow? _

Two more bolts shot from the field of corn and into the Karopi. The spirit writhed in pain and loosened its grip on Artemis. Kicking with all her might, she broke herself free from the slackened grip and darted towards her brother. 

 

The Karopi’s empty eye sockets locked onto her, and then, roaring in rage at her escape, lobbed another tendril her way. Artemis braced for impact, then-

 

_ Clang _ .

Artemis looked up to see the shape of a celestial bronze shield, the largest one she’d ever seen, lodged in the ground at her side, blocking the attack. Accompanied by a high pitched hum, the shield rocketed out of the ground and back towards it’s source. As it flew the shield collapsed inwards into a disk half the size of a normal shield and attached itself to the arm of a young man who jumped from the surrounding corn and pounced on the Karopi’s appendage, carving it up in the blink of an eye with a knife of glittering gold.

 

The Karopi wound up for another attack but was pinned down by another volley of bolts, the source, a girl about sixteen in age, leapt into view besides Apollo, leaned down, and sliced him free with a dagger of bronze.

 

The Karopi, enraged at the spoiling of it’s meal, unceremoniously dropped Demeter to the ground and threw itself at the boy in front of Artemis. The two forms crashed together and, to Artemis’ surprise, the boy didn’t immediately go down. In fact, it looked like he was edging out ontop in the struggle. She could vaguely make out a thin reddish aura coating his body, his eyes darted back to her, strain clear in them, “Kill it” He muttered, tossing her his blade.

 

A part of Artemis’ instincts told her to gut the boy right there for daring to yell at her, but lucky that was overpowered by the need for survival. She gripped the Imperial Gold sword with her good hand, spun from cover, dodged a punch correctly this time, and stabbed.

 

The grain spirit lurched, then froze, her instincts had guided her hand to the perfect spot, it’s heart.  _ Still got it. _

 

It let out a croak of pain before collapsing to the ground in a heap of glittering dust.

 

Everything was still, a new sensation, a heart pounding, rang through Artemis’ chest in the silence.

 

The boy let out an exasperated chuckle, “Critical hit” he laughed. The boy, relaxed leaning in close to her and slapped her on the back. “Nice shot-”

Survival ensured, the later half of Artemis’ instincts kicked in. She turned the short sword on the boy before she even had a chance to think. The boy, his own battle instincts sharp, dodged out of the way, “What in Hades?” He shouted, putting his enlarged shield between them.

 

“Stop!”

 

Artemis was blinded by the bright light of a flashlight.

 

“Drop his weapon, now.”

 

Artemis’ eyes adjusted to the new light and took in the scene.

 

Beneath the flashlight, she stared down the sight of a loaded crossbow, the girl that ran to her brother’s aid glaring down at her with a pair of blue eyes and brown curly hair falling down to her shoulders, the rest of her body was covered in a plain beige jacket. 

 

The boy she was currently pointing her, well his, sword at peered at her from behind his shield. His hair, a short black military cut, did nothing to hide his burnt brown eyes. Though they held the tenacity of a talented fighter, they couldn’t mask the clear apprehension in them.

 

She glanced in the other direction, Apollo had already scrambled to Demeter’s side and helped her to her feet. Their aunt was wide eyed and shaking, her brother looked to the girl with the crossbow, then back at his sister, and shook his head.

 

Artemis sighed, letting her instincts fade, and dropped the knife.

 

The boy quickly snatched it back up and scooted away from her, eyes still wary.

 

“Stand up” the girl demanded. Artemis obeyed.

 

She walked, slowly and carefully, closer to Artemis, Crossbow and flashlight still trained on her. 

She came to within a foot of her, bolt just a few inches from Artemis’ throat, “You got a name?”

 

_ You don’t know these people, don’t tell them. _

 

“Zoë” she blurted out, much to her own surprise.

 

“I’m Jack, and this is Margaret” Apollo followed up.

 

“Zoë, Jack, and Margaret.” The girl repeated back. “Tell me, what did you just see?”

 

“That was a Karopi, and that sword is Imperial Gold.”

 

The girl nodded “Next question, do the words Halfblood or Legacy mean anything to you?”

 

“The three of us are halfblood.” 

 

_ Shit, bad idea.  _ She thought.  _ How are we going to prove that? _

 

“And what exactly are three half bloods doing in a cornfield in, Iowa, halfway across the country from the camp.”

 

“On a quest!” Apollo rushed out.

 

_ That will be even harder to prove.  _ She groaned internally.

 

Before the mystery girl could follow that question up she retaliated with her own, “I could say the same to you two.”

 

The girl snorted, “We live nearby, that’s not unusual, what is unusual is three half blood wandering around in the middle of nowhere with no weapons of any kind.” She glanced down at Artemis’ broken arm, “And no Ambrosia either apparently, who are your parents anyways?”

 

“Athena.”

 

“Apollo.”

 

“Demeter.”

 

“A daughter of Athena foolish enough to attack her saviors?” She said sarcastically, Artemis clenched her one good fist.

 

“And you-” She said as she side-eyed Demeter, erm, Margaret. “You expect me to believe you’re a daughter of Demeter?”

 

“Why wouldn’t you?” She huffed, still visibly rattled from the fight.

 

The girl rolled her eyes, “Because-” she snapped her fingers and the stalk of corn surrounding them quite literally snapped to attention, standing up impossibly straight, the midnight breeze not moving them so much as an inch. She snapped again, one of the stalks shot out of the ground and coiled itself around her arm like a snake.

 

Demeter’s eyes went wide, recognizing her own powers at work.

 

“-I’m a Legacy of Ceres, her Roman counterpart, therefore my powers should be weaker than a full half blood, like you.”

 

She glared suspiciously at Demeter, “So explain to me why you, a full daughter of Demeter, A: Got herself lost in the middle of her mother’s domain B: Failed to sense an oncoming Karopi, one I sense a good two hundred yards away, and C: Wasn’t even able to order a corn stalk to help her?”

 

Demeter looked down at the dirt, face red with shame.

 

The girl scowled, “You guys are shitty liars, you know?”

 

“Sam come on give em a break, they’ve clearly been through a lot today.” The boy Artemis assaulted pulled himself to his feet and walked towards the girl he called Sam.

 

Sam groaned, “You just had to give away my name huh? She jabbed her Crossbow forward at Artemis, “Zoë over hear just tried to carve you up and you think we should trust them?”

 

“Well-” The boy scratched the back of his head bashfully as he very notably kept his shield angled between him and Artemis the whole time. “Uh, first impressions not great” he said with a shrug. “Remind you of someone?” He raised an eyebrow at Sam, who then groaned in annoyance.

 

“Fuck you Mike.”

 

“Hey weren’t you the one who tried to hide our names?”

 

“Weren’t you the one that blew it?”

“Fine, ugh, Carol’s gonna kill us.”

 

“Mike. Names.”

 

“Dammit.”

 

Apollo butted in, “Uh, so, hi, back to us?”

 

Sam turned her crossbow towards him, to Demeter, then back to Artemis. She looked down at her broken arm, then groaned, “Ok fine, we’ll take them into town and hear what they have to say." She jabbed the tip of her crossbow towards Artemis again, “Then they’re leaving in the morning, clear?”

 

“Crystal,” Artemis spoke.

 

Sam nodded, “I’ll lead the way, Mike, you take the back, keep one eye on these three at all times.”

 

Mike nodded, carefully skirted around Artemis, and took up position behind the group. Sam looked the three of them over again, distrust heavy in her eyes. “Let’s get going then.” And without another word she turned back towards the cornfield and began the process of guiding them out.

Artemis reconvened with Apollo and Demeter. The latter had gone completely quiet, looking unfocused off into the fields around her and paying the two of them no mind, the only indication that she was aware of her surroundings being that her eyes would regularly focus back in on the back of Sam, her apparent granddaughter. 

 

Apollo glanced back and forth between the two strange demi-gods they’d picked up, or rather, that had picked them up. He leaned in to whisper to Artemis, “So did we just get saved or-” He stole a glance behind him at the demi-god behind them, Mike. Mike gave them an awkward wave and smile, his hand still gripped firmly on the hilt of his sword. “-Kidnapped?”

 

Artemis looked to the girl, Sam. She appeared to have completely forgotten about their existence, travelling forward through the field with a resolute confidence. She’d run her hand across the stalks of corn, never breaking her stride, and listen to the song of the plants guiding her feet through the indistinguishable sprawl of crops. But Artemis noticed a few tells, a tension in her shoulders, a finger by the trigger, moving in just a way that on a moment’s notice she could spin around and shoot any one of them through the chest.

 

This girl had the skill, grace, and clearly, the experience of someone who’d been fighting for a long time. And there, the slight glint of the moonlight down on her braided hair, made her look the spitting image of a true huntress. So that begged the question that was now rattling around in Artemis’ mind.

  
_Why haven’t I met you before?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, if you'd like, please leave a comment with any and all feedback you can think of, it's greatly appreciated!


	5. Hospitality's My Middle Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, Aphrodite has issues and Artemis step in some shit.

Sally was having a good day. Presents? Wrapped. Estelle? Changed and put to bed. Paul? As of tonight officially on vacation. Wine? _Flowing._

 

“Cheers!” Paul said.

 

“To freedom!” She giggled. Finally after several weeks of headaches brought on from the Christmas rush and all the papers Paul had to grade they were free to just relax till New Years.

 

_Being a mother is hard, but it sure is worth it._

 

_Ding-dong_

 

The two of them froze mid drink.

 

_Ding Dong._

 

They both looked at the door, to each other, back at the door, then back to each other again. “I’ll get it.” Sally grunted solemnly, and headed towards the door. She didn’t put down her wine glass.

 

_I swear to any god in existence that if this isn’t Percy coming home early or a pizza I forgot I ordered then I’m gonna._

 

She looked through the peephole and out into the hallway and found, well she didn’t know what to expect.

 

    A titan looking for revenge? A Giant in tow who somehow fit into the apartment building? Medusa? But no, instead she found three teenagers, one a girl clearly wounded, lead by a boy with a strained smile.

 

“Sally? Is Percy home?”

 

She opened the door with a sigh. “Why?” She asked deadpanned.

 

    The boy in front gestured to the girl, “We’re, uh, kinda screwed right now.”

 

    “And you are?”

 

    The boy bowed, “Hermes, god of thieves and messengers and my two _loving_ step parents at your service.”

 

    The boy in a letterman jacket grunted in annoyed affirmation. The girl, barely conscious form an obvious concussion, said something unintelligible but clearly derisive at him.

 

    Hermes looked up at her, smile still plastered to his face, “Soooooo, mined lending a hand?”

 

Sally, after a few moments of stony silence, sighed, downed her entire glass of wine, and nodded. “Get her onto the couch.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

 _Why do I even bother?_ She lamented quietly, rushing off to find Percy’s spare bag of Ambrosia.

  
  *********  


Apparently Artemis and the others had landed just outside a small town by the name of Trailmont in Iowa, placing them a large distance from both New Rome and Camp Halfblood. Great.

 

    Sam and Mike had guided them in silence into town and to what appeared to be an old warehouse left to rot and rust for some time. Apollo groaned,  “Are we really staying here, in this dump?”

“Shhh” Sam spat.  The strange girl peaked inside through a small broken window, cocked her crossbow, and proceeded to kick the door open. After a quick scan of the room she seemed satisfied and lowered her weapon...slightly. “All clear” she grunted.

 

    Mike guided them past her, “Forgive her, she’s just absurdly cautious about pretty much everything.”

 

    “Kept us alive” she muttered in response.

 

    “That it did, but it’s scarring the guests.” He turned to the three of them with an awkward smile. “Well this is the best we can do, not very comfy but the Karopi and other things that go bump in the night don’t hang around this part of town much. You can stay till the morning and we will stop by with some breakfast for you if you’d like.

 

    Sam squinted at Mike.

 

    “Correction” he sighed, “ _I’ll_ bring you something to eat.” He looked Artemis over and cringed a bit at her broken arm, “And a bit of nectar.” Sam seemed to want to punch her partner for that particular promise.

 

    “You guys don’t live here?” asked Artemis.

 

    Sam’s eyes darted back to her, narrowing as if trying to tell if she were a threat, “No, we live further in town.”

 

    “Where?”

 

    “None of your business. Mike let’s go.”

 

    “Alright, alright, well, see you guys tomorrow.”

 

    And that was that. The two strange demi-gods left and the three found themselves a brief moment to rest in relative safety. After a few minutes to make sure they were gone Apollo made a declaration, “Well those two were weird.”

   

Artemis peered out the window in search of any trace of them, “Apollo, did the oracle put out any prophecies recently? One requiring a Legacy of Ceres?”

 

Apollo scratched his head, “Nope, in fact there hasn’t really been any prophecies recently, the oracles still aren’t fully recovered after Gaea screwed them up and neither camp seems too keen on sending anyone on any quests.”

 

Artemis nodded thoughtfully, “So what you’re saying is there is no good reason for them to be in the middle of the country, far away from either camp?”

 

Apollo shrugged, “I don’t believe Camp Jupiter requires Legacies to stay in camp year round, she could be just visiting home for the holidays.”

“But why would she act so untrusting towards fellow half bloods?”

 

Apollo interjected, “Same reasons you don’t trust her? We aren’t exactly the most inconspicuous trio, not when you have someone who looks like me with you.” He tried to flip his hair over his shoulder for effect, but sulked down to the floor when he remembered it was made short by their transformation. “Plus I think we might just be terrible liars, she saw right through us.”

“You are the god of honesty afterall” Artemis remarked sarcastically.

 

“”This is true” he said with a smile. He looked down at a puddle on the floor and started into his reflection, an unfamiliar acne covered face meeting his gaze. HIs smile faded. “At least I hope I am. Still.” He sighed and let his gaze wander up to another window. He looked out towards the sky, where the sun would rise in a few hours, and for the first, he would experience the unsettling feeling of not hearing the tune of his domain.

 

Demeter sat huddled in a corner, not having said a word since the attack. She absently rubbed a piece of corn stalk she’d picked off the ground between her fingers. Her eyes looked vacant, reminding Artemis of how Aphrodite sometimes looked when she’d disappear into one of her other selves to escape the dullness of a meeting. Where Demeter’s mind was escaping to now, Artemis didn’t know.

 

With a sigh she slid down the nearest wall, joining Apollo in staring out the window as the exhaustion from the last two hours began to set in. Exhaustion, neither her nor her hunters ever had to worry about something as small and frankly pathetic as that. The wild never slept and the hunt never stopped. Getting tired, dropping after a battle and a chase, was for the prey their arrows slew nightly, not for them.

 

Not for _her_.

 

Artemis scowled, “I’m going after them.”

 

She stood up. She couldn’t stand waiting in a cage, in _silence_.

 

Apollo rose to meet her, “Woah, woah, woah, _I’m_ supposed to be the hot headed impulsive one here. Let’s not stir up something we, well-” He gestured to her broken arm and the despondent Demeter, “-Can’t finish.”

 

Artemis groaned, “They’re hiding something. Someone is clearly after Olympus and we’re just going to spend the night in some sketchy half-blood’s garage?”

 

“The boy was nice enough” Demeter muttered, breaking her silence.

  


Artemis would have been happy about this, if it weren’t for the rising anger inside her. She was a hunter, no, THE hunter, she wasn’t about to just wait around in what she could almost guarantee was a trap, she needed to take action, to do _something_.

 

Apollo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Ok, ok, go then. Just don’t get caught.”

 

Artemis smirked, “Brother when have I ever-”

   

“Atlas.”

 

She winced. “Fair.”

 

“Be safe.”

 

“I will be.”

 

Artemis turned and left without another word. Stepping out into the cold winter air, the moon high in the sky but agonizingly silent to it’s goddess, Artemis dropped into a quiet sprint, following the shallow footprints left by her two marks.

  
  
     *********

   

    “Aaaaaaand done.”

 

    Aphrodite dropped the empty case of makeup into the trash and looked at her reflection with a smile. A smile that lasted for about five seconds.

 

    “I still look hideous” she whined.

 

    She snapped Clarisse’s underused makeup bag closed and tossed it into the medicine cabinet and sulked out of the bathroom.

 

    “Please, just go to bed.” Hephaestus muttered.

 

    “We’ll try if you stop tossing and turning” growled Aries.

 

    The three gods, after being picked up by Clarisse and Chris, found themselves stowed away in the later’s attic turned guest bedroom. They had been given two small, rather uncomfortable, beds for the night, Ares and Hephaestus in one and Aphrodite in the other.

 

    Hephaestus grumbled like an old man despite his youthful appearance and turned towards the wall, fumbling with a small metal and plastic contraption he’d picked up somewhere around the house.

 

    _Is that...a fidget spinner?_ She thought.

 

    Ares huffed indignantly, “Piece of metal loving shit” he muttered. Hephaestus didn’t seem to react. Aphrodite flinched ever so slightly.

 

Without skipping a beat Ares moved on to the next topic, his girlfriend. He smiled in a way that was halfway charming, “Why don’t I move to your bed, plenty of room, can keep eachother warm…”

 

“I’m right here” growled Hephaestus, though he didn’t put much emotion behind it. Ares waved him off.

 

“Well?”

 

“I’d love to, but-well, but-”

 

“But?” Ares asked.

 

Truth be told if they were in any normal circumstance she’d have let him hop into her bed without hesitation, even Hephaestus’ presense wasn’t _that_ big of a deal. But what had just happened-Aphrodite shivered and gulped, still feeling the phantom of the taste of her own blood in her mouth-for once she wasn’t in the mood. _Besides._ She scratched at the side of her cheek nervously, careful not to disturb her fresh make-up.

 

“I still look hideous.”

 

Ares rolled his eyes, “Women” he groaned, “With that make-up you look good enough.”

 

 _Good enough._ Aphrodite’s chest tightened with a feeling she’d eventually know to call anxiety. _Since when was it ok for the goddess of Love to be, be, “good enough”? What did that even mean?_

 

No, good enough, for the _gods_ , for _her_ , meant utter perfection. Her anxious hands, looking for something to grab, started playing with her hair. Her corse, split ended, imperfectly human hair. The tightness in her chest seemed to worsen, and for a moment, she forgot to breath.

 

“Uh, Aph, you’re turning blue” remarked Ares, more confused than concerned.

 

    She needed some air. “I’m going to get some water, don’t wait up.” She mumbled, making a clean break for the staircase.

 

    Ares sighed as he watch her flee, “What’s her deal?”

 

    “Maybe coming onto my wife after possibly the worst day of her life wasn’t the best choice”

 

    “What do you know about women you machine-fucking freak?”

 

    When Hephaestus failed to rise to his insult, opting only to sigh and sink further into the sheets, Ares huffed triumphantly, but felt his victory hollow without his favorite goddess to grip. He laid his head down for the night.

 

    _Tomorrow, I’m gonna fucking kill whoever put me here._ He thought.

  
*********  


“This is bad Claire, really bad.”

 

“No shit Chris.” Clarisse stopped her pacing and dropped herself into the sole comfy chair in Chris’ tiny living room. “But I’ll fix it tomorrow.”

 

“By going on a quest?” Chris never yelled, but he was very close to it.

 

“It’s not a quest.”

 

“Ferrying three depowered gods across the state to a safe haven while potentially being hunted down by whatever managed to turn them into humans? Because that sounds like a bloody quest and a half.”

 

He sighs and leans up against a nearby wall, “This stinks Claire, it stinks something fierce.”

 

    Clarisse clenched her first. There it was, that typical child of Ares anger. _Just take a deep breath_ . _In and out._ Her fist loosened and she spoke.

 

“Of course it does, but the fates dropped these three, one of which is sadly my father, into our laps, so we’ve got to deal with ‘em.” If there were three things Clarisse had learned over the past few years they were 1: Don’t fuck with a pissed off Roman after three rounds of wine. 2: Don’t fuck with a son of poseidon while in a bathroom. And 3: Don’t fuck with the Fates. That _never_ ends well.

 

    “How do you know it’s the Fates’ doing?” Chris retorted, “I didn’t hear anything about any new prophecies?”

 

    “No Prophecy, then it’s not a quest, there.”

 

    Chris groaned and dejectedly tapped on of the ornaments on his tiny half off, mostly dead, christmas tree. It was a sloppy papermasche one she’d made for him after the end of the Titanomachy. It was meant to be celebratory, of the day they finally escaped all that madness. Only for the Gigantomachy to screw everything up again.

 

    “It’s just a car ride” she protested.

 

    “It’s not just a car ride!” He finally yelled. “For half bloods it’s never just a car ride, just like it’s never just a quiet summer or good christmas. Just watch, you’ll be jumped by Cyclops or something ten minutes out of the city, I guarantee. A two-hour trip for mortals is a multi-day triathlon for a demigod, especially in groups.”

 

“I’ll be fine-”

 

“But-”

 

“If there is any demi-god outside of the seven that’ll be fine it’s me.”

 

    Chris sighed, “You _are_ impressive.” Clarisse blushed. “It’s just, I made a mistake, siding with Kronos back then, but I still don’t regret _why_ I did it, you know?”

 

    “Chris-”

 

    “My father claimed me, so what? Life’s still pretty shitty for a demi-god and those-” he lowered his voice, “Assholes upstairs and the rest of them don’t seem to keen on changing even after _two_ wars.”

 

    “One of those _assholes_ is my father you know?”

 

    Chris raised an eyebrow to her.

 

    “I mean, you’re not _wrong_ but still.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, “We’re heros right? We can’t just leave someone in danger. You know?”

 

    “Yes but those _someones_ are-”

 

    Chris stopped as he heard the sound of a faucet turning on. He spun around to see Aphrodite taking a drink of water while trying to stay as out of sight from them as possible. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, i just needed some-”

 

When Chris saw her face his eyes went wide and mouth fell open. Clarisse followed suit. Aphrodite shut herself up, a hand quickly went to her face and she went a deep crimson.

 

“Uh,” she stammered, and smiled at them awkwardly, an adjective he’d never thought he’d associate with anything the goddess of love would ever do, and she darted for the stairs, “Neededsomewaterdidn’tmeantoevesdropsorryIprobablylooklikeabsoluteshitrightnowsorrytomakeyoulookathow-.”

 

“No, it’s ok” Clarisse said, breaking out of their short trance, it’s just that with that make-up you look-”

 

“Ugly?” she asked weekly.

 

“Just like Silenna.”

 

Aphrodite paused halfway up the stairs and stared down at her reflection in her glass of water. “Oh.” she whispered. “I-I guess I do.” She continued up the stairs without another word.

The two sat in complete silence for a minute, both of them staring off into space as if they had just seen a ghost. Chris spoke first, “You can leave with the truck tomorrow morning, if you aren’t back in eight hours I’m coming after you with the biggest “I told you so” of all time.”

 

Clarisse let herself smile at that, “You’re the best.”

 

“They better give you a medal for this.”

 

“I’ll be sure to ask the council to make me a goddess when this is all over” she chuckled.

 

“Now let’s stop fighting and go to bed already.”

 

Chris sighed but followed with a smile, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 

        *********

 

    The moon casted a brilliant light. A shame it was so quiet.

 

    It wasn’t full by any means but it’s light gave Artemis what she needed to track her marks. Mike’s footsteps in the mushy ground were deep and fresh, as if he’d just walked through a second ago. Sam’s on the other hand, were a challenge. The girl made each step lightly, never fully committing to wherever she stepped, as if she were worried the ground wound one day try and bite her and she’d need to be ready to run. Her tracks were almost unnoticeable, but losing the sounds of the hunt and her divinity didn’t take away thousands of years worth of hunting experience.

 

    The tracks lead her into downtown where nearly every shop and building had gone dark for the night, casting the small town into an eerie silence. There was enough light to see where she was going but without her perfect vision the details failed to be apparent. This fact didn’t not help Artemis with another problem she was facing, she was feeling _very_ jumpy.

 

And who could blame her? This was all too new, all too fast. She stepped down the sidewalk when something long and thin slid down her shoulder, she nearly screamed as she frantically pushed it off, only to realize that it wasn’t in fact the tendril of another Karopi, but a string of unlit christmas lights dangling from a barber shop sign. She tried to calm herself, to breath, to listen to the sounds of the-oh right.

 

Her eyes strained against the horizon, hoping to spot the outlines of Mike and Sam. She couldn’t. Her shoulders slumped, the tracks would be impossible on concrete this far from the garage. If she were a god she could have seen their shadows a mile away, been five places at once, talked to the squirrels or rats that snuck through the smaller places of the town to search them out. If she had her Hunters she…..she wouldn’t be so alone.

 

Artemis fell back against the nearest wall and slid down to the ground with a heavy sigh. The trail had gone cold. Artemis was in danger of losing a hunt. _Pathetic._

 

She glanced over her shoulder. It wasn’t a wall, but a large store front window. A short girl, appearing age twelve, with pale white skin and long brown hair that slung over her right shoulder in a braid, all crowned with two eyes of sparkling silver. It was the mortal form she’d assumed everyday among the hunt for thousands of years. She’d grown comfortable with it, strong with it, the picturesque image of the maiden mother of the hunt. This was not the form she saw staring back at her in the shadows of her reflection.

 

Her new body was tall, nearly two feet larger than she was before, if she had to guess this body was now seventeen, almost an adult. Her skin was a shade darker now, as was her hair, now an obsidian black much like her lieutenant Thalia’s. The only part of her that looked the same were her eyes. Silver, like the moon. She looked away, not wanting to see the fear in them any longer.

 

She half heartedly sniffed the air, vainly hoping to get even the slightest whiff of their scents, nothing. She stood up and shrugged,but before she could begin her slow sulk back to her brother and aunt, her senses picked up on something.

 

No, not her senses, her instincts. She turned herself around. Built beneath what looked like a restaurant and connected to the street by a staircase, was a door. A sign hung above it at street level labeling it _“The Hollow Haven Bar.”_ Artemis grimaced, alcohol, the poison that make men more bruttish than they already were and dragged women down to their level, making them vulnerable. She swore she’d never touch a drop of the stuff, a small addendum she’d given to her oath after Dionysius barged into the council. But for some reason she couldn’t explain, her instincts urged her forward.

 

 _Fine._ She grumbled, descending the staircase and entering the bar.

 

She prepared herself for the scent of her step brother to assault her, but found the distinctly out of place scent of pine. Pleasantly surprised and deeply confused, she scanned the bar.

 

    The place was practically deserted. A middle aged man sat passed out at the far end of the bar, his drink caught in a death grip. A boy who looked a few years too young to be there sat lazily in one of the booths with a crossword puzzle, and a can of coke, and what looked like a recent scar across his left cheek. The ancient jukebox next to him quietly played Jingle Bells throughout the bar. He didn’t pay her any mind.

 

    Lastly there was the bartender, a young man who also seemed too young to be here, clean shaven and wearing casual attire, and sporting a simple crew cut, and was cleaning the glasses with content smile. He noticed her immediately, “Hello there” he said, smile broad, “We’re closing soon what can I get you?” He motioned towards an empty stool at the bar.

 

    Her instincts hesitated a moment, a strange man couldn’t be trusted, but ultimately whatever was driving them to this bar won out. She slowly approached and sat down.

 

    The young man, who upon closer inspection couldn’t be older than eighteen, took out a fresh glass. “Aren’t you a bit young to be working a bar?” She blurted out.

 

    The boy shrugged guiltily, “The boss runs the bar when we’re really open, I just do clean up and make sure old Barty hear pays his tab when he wakes up.” He jabbed a finger at the passed out drunk a couple stools down from her.

 

“Still not _exactly_ legal but no one around here really cares. Soda or water?”

 

“Water is fine.”

 

He filled her glass quickly, “Think fast” and slid it down the length of the bar. Artemis caught it easily with her good arm.

 

“Nice reflexes” he commented. She didn’t reply.

 

He wiped his hands with a rag then made his way towards her end of the bar, “If you don’t mind I’d like to hear the answer to the same question.”

 

She squinted, he chuckled, “You’re not the only person who notices when someone is too young to be in a place like this.”

 

She remained silent.

 

“Not going to cause any trouble, I promise. I just like to hear everyone’s stories. It mitigates how dull this job can be. Like hearing Barty’s rambling tales about his youth or-” He pointed towards the teenager in the booth, “-Chance’s latest stroke of bad luck.”

 

“Go fuck yourself Bryce” He yelled back, not looking up from his crossword.

 

Bryce the bartender laughed, “Love you to man, bros for life.”

 

Chance gave him the middle finger, which only made him laugh more.

 

“So” he asked, “What’s your story, or first, what’s your name?”

 

Artemis hesitated for a moment, then spoke, “Zoë, Zoë Grace.”

 

Bryce hummed in acknowledgement, “Ok Zoë, so what brings you to this run down old place at-” He checked his watch, an odd thing for someone his age in this day in age to have, “Oh boy, three AM, there goes my sleep schedule” he said with a sigh.

 

    Artemis pretended to take a drink from her water, “Just needed to find a place where the family can’t bother me.” She lied, though to be fair she wasn’t looking forward to slinking back to Apollo and Demeter empty handed.

 

    Bryce nodded, “I know the feeling, though after listening to Bart rant about his second wife for the third time in a week, I’d advise not making ducking into bars to avoid your problems a habit.”

 

    Artemis’ thoughts drifted to her step brother and she scowled, “Trust me, you don’t have to tell me twice.” She pretended to take another sip. _What am I even doing here?_ She thought.

 

    She scanned the bar again,. Nothing out of the ordinary, tidy and deserted, but it was three AM. She sniffed her glass when Bryce wasn’t looking. Nothing unusual there. She looked at the reflection on her glass and her breath hitched when she noticed the other boy, the one named Chance, staring at her over the edge of his crossword book. He didn’t seem to notice that she noticed him.

 

She looked to Bryce, who’d turned his back to her and resumed cleaning the glasses by hand. Watching him a moment, Artemis started to notice a few of his odd ticks. The way he seemed to dance in place like he couldn’t sit still, spinning a glass in his hand before returning it to the rack, and humming what vaguely sounded like an old shanty tune.

 

_Those mannerisms, I’ve seen them before._

  


    “So, you from out of town?” Bryce suddenly asked.

 

    Artemis tensed, “What makes you say that?”

 

    Bryce shrugged, “Small town, social place, you get to know everyone around. Their names, their faces, their weird little quirks-” He playfully tossed an empty glass back and forth between his hands, “-values-”  then placed it delicately on the drying rack, “-and when they get drunk and loose-lipped? They’re dreams and life stories.” He flipped his drying towel over his shoulder and turned back to her with a smile that reminded Artemis of a swindler ready to take another man’s coin.

 

    “So for curiosity’s sake, who are you, Zoё Grace?” It was then Artemis noticed the knife at his waist, a knife of Celestial Bronze. Artemis knuckles turned white against her glass, her eyes darting to the door, “Where are you going? And where have you been?”

 

    The back door behind the bar slammed open to break the tension. All attention shot to the new arrival.

 

    “Alright Bryce close up, we have to talk about what we’re gonna do about the-”

 

    Sam stopped when she locked eyes with Artemis. “-Outsiders.” She whipped out her crossbow. Seeing that it was obviously time to leave, Artemis jumped up and threw her stool at Sam with her good arm before she could load a shot, turned, and bolted for the door.

 

    Bryce, surprised by the sudden confrontation, tried to lunge for Artemis but she managed to just barely slip by. Her mind went racing. _Get out grab the others, maybe steal a car, get the Hades out of-._ And in what Artemis considered one of the most embarrassing moments of her long life, she managed to catch her own shoe lace and trip face first into Bart. The drunk slob, still completely blacked out fell from his chair and directly onto Artemis, pinning her to the ground.

 

 _Oh just kill me._ Artemis moaned internally.

 

Sam kicked Bart’s prone form off Artemis’ back then stepped on her to keep her pinned. She lined the crossbow up with the back of her head, “You have five seconds to tell me who you _really_ are.”

 

Bryce, his knife in hand shot an exasperated look at Sam, “The hell you think you’re doing?”

 

“Neutralizing a threat.”

 

“By going all Of Mice and Men on her ass? In the godsdamn bar?”

 

“I won’t if-” She snarled, grabbed Artemis’ broken arm, and twisted it. Artemis let out a squeal of pain, “-She tells me _exactly_ why she is here and _exactly_ what she plans to tell those godsdamn camps.”

 

“Sam stop.” Everyone looked to the other boy, the one known as Chance, as he finally stood up from his booth. “That’s no way to treat a guest.”

 

    Sam rolled her eyes, “She followed me here, she must be-”

 

    “Curious about the shifty Legacy and Half Blood hanging out in a cornfield?”

 

    Sam didn’t respond. “Let her go. If she tried to run you can always shoot her.” Sam obeyed and yanked Artemis to her feet.

 

Chance stepped forward till he was up close to Artemis. The part of her instincts trained to resist the will of men need to be restrained, lest she punch him for getting too close and meet her end at Sam’s bolt.

 

Chance looked her over before asking, “Do you have any idea what this place is?”

 

Artemis frowned, “I-believe the sign outside said the Hollow Haven Bar?”

 

He nodded absently, running a hand through his hair as if he were about to make an impossible decision, “And if you were to return to either Camp Half Blood or Camp Jupiter, that includes New Rome and, on the off chance, Olympus, you will only ever refer to this place as a perfectly normal, perfectly _mundane_ bar?”

 

“That serves a mean brandy.” Infected Bryce, earning him a scowl from Sam, an expression that appeared to be her default.   

   

    Chance extended his hand to her, “Deal?” He asked.

 

    Artemis reluctantly accepted the handshake from the man.

 

    “Good” he said with a sigh of relief, “Now where are your companions staying?”

 

    “The empty garage she dumped us at.”

 

    Chance shot Sam a glare, she rolled her eyes, “What? It wasn’t like I was going to bring the here.”

 

    “They’re travelers Sam” he gestured to Artemis’ broken arm. “Travelers in a bit of a pinch.”

    “I swear you and Mike are going to get us killed one-”

 

    “What did Carol tell us?”

 

    Sam sighed, “Always help a traveler” she muttered.

 

    “Good” he replied, “Now you and Bryce go fetch them, I’ll show Zoë to her quarters.”

 

    The two nodded reluctantly, Bryce bent down and pried Bart off the floor, “Come on buddy” he muttered under the man’s weight, “Let’s get you home first.” Sam continued glaring at Artemis till she was out the door, leaving her alone in an awkward silence with Chance.

 

    He broke the silence first, “Sorry about Sam” He sighed, rubbing his left temple like he had a perpetual headache and taking another swig of his coke, “Our two leaders are out of town and she's getting antsy.”

 

    “Just who are you guys? What _is_ this place?”

 

    _And how fast can I escape?_ She thought, starting to wonder about just how deep rabbit hole she’d fallen into on her first night as a human.

 

    Chance smirked and motioned her to the back door, come on. Artemis didn’t move. “Oh, right.” He took out a knife. Artemis prepared to flee. “Relax.” He turned the hilt toward her, “Take it, if it’ll make you feel better.” She accepted the git.

 

    She used Artemian Silver almost exclusively with her weapons, finding Celestial Bronze and it’s golden counterpart just a bit too heavy for her liking. But this dagger, with an Imperial Gold hilt and Celestial Bronze blade, was forged as thin as a razor and balanced to near perfection. It fit almost too perfectly in her grip.

 

    “Good fit.” Chance mused before beckoning her into the back room. Artemis reluctantly complied, new daggered gripped tightly to her side.

 

    The backroom was what one would normally expect from a bar. Kegs and boxes of beer and other drinks strewn around a moderately clean floor, but what was most unusual was the elevator in the far back. Even more strange, upon closer inspection, it seemed to flicker like a mirage. _The Mist._

 

“See right through it can you?” Chane asked.

 

    “Yes.”

   

    He whistled, “Damn, this thing’s coated with enough mist even Mike loses track of it sometimes, and he’s a full blooded alf blood, you've got some eyes Zoё.”

 

    “....Thank you.” She forced out.

 

    With a click of a button and the insertion of a key card, the doors opened and the two entered. “You still haven’t answered my question.” She inquired as the door drew to a close, “What is this place.”

   

    “What do you know about the twin camps, Zoë?”

 

“They’re places for the children and descendants of the gods to train. They’re the only two safe havens in the world for them.” _Except the girls, they have the Hunt._ She thought proudly.

 

“Safe Havens huh?” Chance smirked as the elevator descened, “Interesting turn of phrase that, but not inaccurate. But yes they are the two primary homes of our kind.”

 

_Primary?_

 

“Well, them and that stuck up cult of girl scouts.” Artemis frowned at that and clutched her dagger just a bit tighter.

 

The elevator stopped and Chance’s smirk widened, “But they aren’t the only ones, and I’d say, probably the worst of the bunch.”

 

The doors opened and Artemis gasped.

 

“Woah.”

 

“Never get tired of that reaction.”

 

 

**Coming Up Next: Chapter 6, Zeus Gets Beat Up By a Girl**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Hollow Haven, aka, the land where everyone's Percy Jackson's OC's go! Now that things are starting to get going updates will be moving to every other week. Please leave a comment with your thoughts!


	6. We're Kindof a Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athena has a Nightmare.  
> Poseidon gets a hobby.  
> Hermes enjoys himself.  
> Hera needs a minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Implied Domestic Abuse

Gods don’t dream. They don’t even sleep unless forced to by another god. But Athena was a god no longer, so this little rule no longer applied. She was however, as she would eventually piece together, a demi-god. Yay. But that, unfortunately for her, meant her new found dreams needed to follow a new rule. Halfblood dreams were _horrible_. No exceptions.

 

    Athena heard a sickening crack and her eyes shot open. Above her she saw the ruins of a parking lot and the looming structure of the Roman Colosseum in front of a setting sun. It was beautiful, hauntingly so. Her blood rushed to her head as she realized she was hanging over a cliff, or more appropriately, a sinkhole that dropped ever downwards into the tell tale orange glow of Tartarus. A single thin thread of what looked like steel was all that held her up.

 

    _Welcome to my home, brat._

 

Athena shivered, the voice was accompanied by a horrid sickly sweet breath.

 

    _Do I, repulse you?_ It asked.

 

The slimy click of each syllable made Athena’s skin crawl. She tried to yell back a response, probably something so incredibly clever that it would make whatever low born beast dared speak to the Goddess of Cunning cower in fear or embarrassment. But all that came out was silence. Her voice catching in her throat, her mouth refusing to open. After all, when has anyone ever had a nightmare where they could fight back?

   

    _Yeeess I geusss I do? Don’t I? It’s only natural, in the presence of you, my perfect, inexorable, goddessss._

 

Something long, thin, and razor sharp struck Athena along her side. A thin gash opened across the length of her body. Blood shimmered a crimson red as it oozed down her side towards her face before drizzling down into the pit below. The roars of monsters echoed up the walls of the chasm, warped cries of joy over the sampling of her blood stirring them into a frenzied beg for more. The sounds chilled Athena to the fragile bone.

 

A deformed bulbous shadow crawled down from the parking lot and leisurely plopped itself down just above her. The intensity of it’s stench made Athena gag.

 

Her body was too tense, her mind too frightened, to look behind her, but she could practically _hear_ it smiling.

 

    _Ooooh don’t mind them, those are just your fans, the fans of all you beautiful-_

 

One of it’s sharp appendages, the one that struck her earlier, pierced straight through one of Athena’s legs. Athena tried to scream. She couldn’t.

 

    _-Flawless_

 

Another leg, black, hairy, and deadly, tore through her abdomen, narrowly missing her vital organs but putting her in more agony then she had ever know. Every fiber of her being pushed her to scream, but still, her lips would not part.

 

    _-Peerless_

 

Two more legs shot through her shoulder blades. All emotions, every ounce of fear fled in the face of pain. Her tounge kicked against her lips and met a familiar texture.

 

The last logical vestige in Athena’s mind fired off and made the connection. It was the texture of a fine silk thread. Her mouth was sewn shut.

 

One last leg dangled down in front of her eyes as her vision began to blur from her tears.

 

- _Olympian Brats._

 

The leg shot out of view with horrifying speed and slashed away at the steel, no, silk, thread that held her in suspension.

 

And then she fell.

 

The distorted rainbow of Tartarus’ layers sped past her. The Horde bellowed below her in a concert of glee, like mad dogs whose masters just dropped a freshly mangled piece of meat for them to tear to shreds.

 

The voice spoke once more, it’s voice reverberating downwards and in a thousand directions: _I don’t know who or what it is that gods pray to but for your sake-_

 

The ground rushed into sight beneath her. Amid the faceless mob of monsters, stood a single woman, who smiled as they made eye contact. The woman’s hair hissed with satisfaction.

 

_-You better hope they’re listening._

 

Finally, as Athena’s nightmare drew to a close, she found her strength. Her strength to scream.

 

* * *

 

    Athena’s screaming continued into the waking world as she shot awaken. On instinct she called out with her mind to her spear and shield of divine wrath, every ounce of her power that she could muster, to defend herself. Nothing came.

 

As her heart rate began to slow and her vision began to clear the reality of the previous night fell back into place. The cold sweat that caked her new teenage body made her itch. Itches, another problem beneath a god. And just as it seemed she had gotten her infernal heart rate under control, Poseidon, with all the tact of an Olympian male and teenage boy, burst into her tiny room, “WHO DARES ATTACK THE DWELLING OF POSEIDON?!” He shouted, brandishing a spatula as if it were a club.

 

Athena fell out of bed, thankfully still wearing her clothes from last night, and hit her head on the cold floor.

 

“Ah shit” Poseidon muttered, scrambling to help her up. “Sorry bout that.”

 

Poseidon pulled her to her feet, making note that she was shaking fiercely. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “You feeling ok?”

 

Athena, cradling her throbbing head, wiped away the traces of tears that she had shed during the night, “I’m fine.” She said through gritted teeth. “Just a bad dream is all.”

 

Poseidon nodded solemnly while his hands absently fiddled with his weaponized spatula. Athena raised an eyebrow, “Why exactly was _that_ your rescue weapon of choice?”

 

Poseidon cracked a smile, “Oh, this! I thought I’d try my hand at cooking us breakfast before Hades arrives.” He let go of her and made his way to the door, waving her to follow, “Come, be my taste tester.”

 

Athena suddenly wondered if her life was in grave danger, but the new biting sensation rising in her stomach, the one she assumed was what humans called “hunger” quickly won out.

 

Now, when somebody hears tell of an apartment belonging to the Lord of the Underworld himself, a few natural assumptions are made.

 

Pens for hellhounds, perches for the furies, undead butlers, and maybe a few blood soaked satanic pedestals for shits and giggles. But when they arrived last night, what they found was surprisingly tame. There was still an obscene amount of black coloring everything from the curtains, rugs, and furniture, with only the walls being sparred with a coat of dark purple.

 

What confused Athena the most though was the complete lack of a statue of the places owner. Surely her uncle, the wealthiest of all the gods, would have spared one for a home within his domain? In fact the only true indication the place was owned by Hades, aside from, again, the color palette, was a simple black (because of course it’s black) hearth modeled after Hestia’s on Olympus, with a insignia barring of the three heads of Cerberus. It was a crucible for offerings. It smelled like fish.

 

“Hades had fish in the refrigerator.” Poseidon commented. “Monstrous I say! Had to give them a proper burial. Hope Hades likes the smell first thing in the morning. Now come on, sit.”

 

As Athena sat down at the dining room table Poseidon filled her plate with-

 

“Poseidon.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Why are my eggs blue.”

 

“......Why wouldn’t they be.”

 

“If this kills me then father will skewer you with your Trident before throwing you head first into Tartarus.”

 

“Just eat the damn eggs Athena.”

 

“Fine.”

 

She took a bite and to her surprise, did not drop dead from food poisoning. In fact, if Athena were one to use hyperbole she would even describe them as, well, good. her stomach growled and she shoveled another chunk of scrambled eggs into her mouth. _Really good._

 

Poseidon smirked, “I take it I don’t need to hide a body?”

 

Athena glared at him but didn’t speak, probably because she was too busy devouring her breakfast. Her first breakfast as a mortal. Blue eggs served by her least favorite uncle. It appeared today was to be as bizarre yesterday.

 

As the morning went on Poseidon finished making the rest of breakfast, blue ham accompanied by a second helping of blue eggs. Athena did not find this joke funny in the slightest, even if Poseidon couldn’t keep himself from giggling like a schoolboy when he pointed it out.

 

They didn’t talk much, the two having one of the more, shall we say _tense_ relationships among the Olympians. But Athena had to admit, she could have been in worse company. Demeter would have gone on some rant about cereal, Apollo would be _far_ too chipper about the sun rising and probably break out into a self praising show tune, Aries would be Aries. She watched him from the corner of her eyes as she finished off the last of the blue smoothy.

 

_How much food coloring does Hades have?_

 

Poseidon smiled to himself as he cleaned and put away the dishes, humming what she assumed was a sea chanty under his breath. It really did strike her just how much his current body looked like his son. Her eyes caught her reflection in her empty glass and her breath hitched. Her same grey eyes stared back at her, but not out of her face, this new face had skin that was slightly tanned and short golden blonde hair. It was Annabeth’s face.

 

This revelation suddenly made the entire situation playing out around her infinitely more awkward than it already was. She looked back and forth between Poseidon and herself. Annabeth had been living with Percy in New Rome for nearly two years now. In the same apartment, to her _immense_ disapproval.

 

 _Is this what my daughter’s mornings look like?_ She thought, the taste of Poseidon's cooking still lingering. _I guess it's not so bad._

 

Her strange musings left her when she heard a knock at the door. Both of them tensed, Poseidon reaching once again for his horribly inefficient improvised weapon. There was a long pause.

 

“It’s me Hades” Came from outside.

 

“How do we know for sure?” Poseidon shot back.

 

“Oh for fuc-( _Incoherent grumblings_ )” There was a click of a lock, the door swung open, and in stormed a frustrated Hades.

 

“WHY DID YOU TELL THE NURSE I LIKED BLUE?” He shouted, shaking his leg currently encased in a bright blue cast.

 

Poseidon bellowed with laughter and, in spite of herself, Athena laughed right along with him.

 

Hades’ face grew red with indignation, “I see you’ve slipped into your new roles as children quite nicely.”

 

“Lighten up Hades” his brother chided.

 

“Did you seriously just tell me to “ _lighten_ ” up?”

 

“Got that one from Apollo” he grinned. Hades sighed.

 

“Fine, fine, whatever. Now where is the weapons cash I mentioned in my note?”

“Down the hall under your bed.” He replied, pointing in the direction with his spatula.

 

Hades tilted his head in confusion. “If you found the weapons, and were worried about me secretly being a threat, why are you armed with a Spatula.”

 

Poseidon looked down at his weapon, then to Hades, then back to his weapon. Once again, Hades sighed, “You know what, it doesn’t matter, what matters is we can finally get a move on. Grab your stuff.” He began to shuffle off with his CRutches down the hallway to his room. “We leave in ten.”

 

“What took you so long? You said you’d be back first thing in the morning. It’s almost one.

 

Athena’s eyes widened. _Did I really slept that long? I’m still exhausted. Stupid dysfunctional body._

 

Hades poked his head back around the corner, “Had to beg the hospital to buy me an Uber. The Humiliation! At least I got Dave.”

 

“Dave?” Poseidon asked.

 

“The Uber driver. Cool guy.”

 

“Wait hold on why did you need an Uber when you-?” Athena asked, her question dying in her throat.

 

Hades nodded solemnly, “I tired and tried but Shadow Travel just wasn’t an option.” He looked down at the floor glumly, “The Shadows are as foreign to me now as they are to you.”

 

Poseidon’s expression quickly matched his brother’s, his eyes drifting to the faucet. He looked as if he were trying to will the oceans themselves to burst forth and flood the whole room. But the water didn’t budge. He sighed and went back to cleaning up.

 

“Leaving in ten, got it.” He muttered absently, the content smile from moments prior gone completely.

 

Hades disappeared down the hallway, a million things on his mind. And Athena simply sat where she was, stewing in the awkward silence that ended her first morning as a mortal.

 

* * *

 

    Hermes was worried Zeus might break something, that something being the bumblingly nervous, yet overall kind, Paul Blowfis. Luckily after offering Zeus some tea and being met with a silent glare, he got the picture and left them alone.

 

    Now Hermes prided himself on being one of the more observant gods in the Olympus rank and file. Being the god of communication itself required him to be always on the move, ready to take in every detail of a moment in a split second because that might be all the time he could fit into his schedule. But in all the times he had to take in the details of his step father’s demeanor, all the adjectives he’d catalogued to describe him, jittery was not one of them. Impatient yes but not _jittery._

 

But there he sat, on the Jackson-Blowfis families’ decade old saggy yard sale couch, wound up tight and practically sparking with restless energy. He clenched and unclenched his left fist, shifted around from one side of the couch to another, flipped a quarter he snagged off the nearby counter in his right hand. All the while his eyes seemed to make slow laps around the room as if he were waiting for something to jump out and fight him. It was like watching a battery begin to overload after being struck by lightning. Hermes would have found it funny if it wasn’t so concerning.

 

    “Why are we still here?” He finally growled, catching the coin he tossed in a death grip.

 

    Hermes sighed, finishing the rubix cube he found in Percy’s room for the sixth time in the past ten minutes. “Getting medical attention for your wife?”

 

    Zeus rolled his eyes, “And she has it, so why do you insist we stay?”

 

    Hermes rolled his back at him, “One square of Ambrosia does not a concussion heal. Besides with Percy not here we have to go to Camp for back-up. Something we can do once we get some shut eye.”

 

    “ _Shut eye!?”_

 

    Zeus huffed indignantly, as if the mere thought of doing something so _human_ was an insult to him. “You want me to get some _shut eye_ while whatever filthy mongrel that _sullied-”_

 

He stood up, looked down at his hands, his tacky letterman jacket, and around at the walls of his nephew’s humble abode as if it were a puddle of mud he had tripped and fallen into.

 

“- _my_ night, _MY_ wife!”

 

Hermes scoffed under his breath but Zeus heard him, “What was that?”

 

 _Oh great._ Hermes thought, for the first time since the return of his humanity he truly missed the million different versions of himself he could just focus on instead of his step dad’s rants. _Ah well, here we go._ He thought, taking a proverbial swig of mental liquor.

 

“Nothing, nothing, just found it odd is all that you’d put the emphasis on the word _MY_ and not on _WIFE_.”

 

“Your point?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“No.” He barked.

 

Zeus strode across the room towards him, trying his damnedest to replicate his regal gait with his slightly awkward late teen body.

 

“Tell me what you mean by that.” He said darkly, in the same way he always did right before he’d start shouting threats about the depths of Tartarus, his _massive_ Bolt, or that one time about breaking up the Spice Girls. Apollo never quite forgave him for that one, and frankly, neither had Hermes.

 

“No its’-”

 

A frankly stupid thought flew into Hermes’ mind, and a mischievous smile quickly grew across his face in kind. Maybe it was, again, the tacky leather jacket, or the pussy zit under Zeus’ nose that he’d just noticed, but Hermes wasn’t exactly feeling intimidated by the “King of the Universe” right now.

 

“You just seem very possessive of someone you’ve passed over every weekend for some new meat.”

 

Zeus was silenced a moment, before roaring in anger, “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”

 

He grabbed Hermes by the collar of his shirt and hoisted him into the air. Hermes sighed and dropped his rubix cube.

 

    “TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT YOU MEAN BY THAT!” He shook him violently.

 

“Tell me _exactly_ what you mean by that you _propped_ _up_ LITTLE SHIT.”

 

Hermes winced at the _“propped up”_ comment and balled his hand into a fist.

 

Zeus continued, “Because what it _sounds_ like is a little man whore with a cabin full of unused condoms trying to-gruk.” Hermes had kicked Zeus in the groin and headbutted him before he could finish.

 

The golden boy prick could trash talk him all day long. He’d heard it all. Dirt. Filth. Ungrateful. Undeserving. That pathetic little street rat who tricked Apollo into giving him god hood. The _little mortal_ that got to play with the big boys. All of it thrown at him over the millennia. Didn’t matter, he could outrun it all. But his kids, his kids couldn't.

 

Zeus stumbled from the blows but kept his grip tight. He went in for a punch. His face muscles were drawn tight with anger.

 

For a flash Hermes saw Luke with those same hateful eyes, eyes that turned him from his father, his friends, into the arms of Kronos. The eyes that loathed him like he did all the other gods.

 

Hermes dug his nails into Zeus’ arm, “Nobody insults my kids!” He yelled, and used Zeus’ arm as leverage to kick his step father upside the head. Zeus let go of him for a moment, but a moment was all he needed. Hermes dropped to the ground with the grace of a cat while Zeus barely managed to avoid falling flat on his ass.

 

Hermes had been human once, a long, long time ago, and though he was rusty, he had a lot more experience with a body made of flesh than the King of Olympus ever had. But it wasn’t just that. Zeus may have been the god of lightning-

 

Before Zeus could even come close to getting his footing straight, Hermes tackled him.

 

-But Hermes was the god of speed.

 

Pinning Zeus effortlessly, Hermes didn’t hesitate to bring a fist down right on his left eye. Zeus kicked him hard but it didn’t phase him. It had been so long ago but his memories were still there, faded, but there. The cold nights on the street, scrounging for food, did Zeus really think a kick to the stomach would throw him off? He brought down another punch. This one gave him a black eye.

 

“ENOUGH!”

Before Hermes could clock him again someone grabbed him by the arm and pulled him off his step father. He turned around to identify them as a VERY peeved Sally Jackson.

 

“You two are thousands of years old and acting like children. Now to bed.”

 

“What?!” Zeus spat, his right eye already swelling. “You think you can order-”

 

“Shut up and get back to the couch while I get you some frozen peas for that eye.”

 

“The couch?” He scoffed, “I am Zeus, King of Olympus, of the Cosmos, I am not sleeping on your-”

 

“Do you want to sleep in the show?”

 

“...NO, BUT-”

 

“Then you get the couch.” She groaned and squeezed the bridge of her nose, “Ah I really need that red wine” she muttered under her breath before turning to Hermes.

 

“You get Percy’s room, but one more peep and you share the couch with your father.”

 

“Yes ma’am” Hermes bowed, “Thank you for your hospitality.”

 

Sally gave him a strained smile and left for the kitchen. “You’re leaving for Camp first thing tomorrow, capiche?” She shouted back.

 

“Oh course.” Hermes turned to Zeus, trying not to smirk at the shiner that was now starting to swell, “See you tomorrow.”

 

“You to.” Zeus threatened through gritted teeth.

 

“Oh and Zeus-”

 

“Yes?” He growled.

 

“You still didn’t answer my question about Hera.”

 

Zeus scowled, “As your king-”

 

Hermes huffed, “Right, right, save it. You’re impossible.” And with a tired sigh Hermes trudged his way towards his cousin’s room. And as he crawled beneath the ocean blue covers a thought occurred to him.  
  
    _“I won’t have to check my emails tomorrow.”_

 

Hermes grinned, quickly letting himself fall into the near forgotten embrace of sleep after far to long. It was a feeling he had discovered, he missed far more than he thought he did.

 

* * *

 

Hera wasn’t quite sure at what point she blacked out, but when she came to it was to a taste she’d not known in a long, long time. Something soft and buttery washed down her throat, a taste of subtle spices and a mother’s touch. She cracked open her eyes, and saw nothing but darkness.

 

 _“Where...am...I?”_ She thought. Within seconds the pain came flooding back and her head began to throb. She slammed her eyelids shut and clutched the sides of her head, letting out a tiny whimper in the process.

 

A gentle feminine voice spoke, “Shh, there, there. It’s going to be alright. Here, eat this.”

 

_Eat._

 

A new flash of pain shot through Hera’s addled mind.

 

_Ambrosia. Pain. Blood. Cold. My kingdom. Falling away. Helpless._

 

The throbbing in her skull spiked again and she whimpered some more. Hot tears began to fall down her cheeks.

 

A delicate hand slowly stroked her hair, “I know it hurts but you have to eat if you want to get better. Now open up.”

 

Hera relented and the strange woman fed her a spoon full of-

 

Hera’s whole body grew to a comforting warmth, she felt the same buttery crunchy taste from before but this time it was far stronger. It was so familiar. So, homey. Her headache started to fade away. She opened her eyes again and didn’t immediately hate herself for it.

 

“Good, you’re looking better already.”

 

The figure before her lit a small candle.

 

“You’re sensitive to light right now so I won’t turn the lights on right now.” The light irritated Hera’s head but the pain left as quickly as it came. The light woman before her came into view. Through her still muddled vision she saw brown hair and a caring smile.

 

Despite the lingering pain, Hera snapped awake.“R-Rhea?”

 

That taste, of course! How could she forget? Rhea’s homemade pies. Oh Fates she hadn’t had one in so very long.

 

“Rhea is that you?” She asked, more excited than she should have allowed herself to be.

 

She lunged forward and pulled the woman into a bear hug, prompting a surprised gasp.

 

“Oh mother i’ve missed you so much.”

 

The woman laughed awkwardly, “Um, I’m flattered but, I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

 

Confused, Hera pulled away and allowed her eyes to fully adjust to her surroundings. It quickly became apparent that this woman was not Rhea. Her eyes were blue and not her loving earthly brown, her hair wasn’t silky smooth like a blanket, and her skin was far too light and scattered with multiple imperfections. And above all she didn’t glow with that aura of grace and beauty. This was just a normal, very mortal, woman.

 

“Oh” Hera finally said, not sure if she should be angry or embarrassed.  

 

The woman smiled, “Though I’m flattered, I guess. Anyways I’m Sally Jackson.” She held out her hand.

 

Hera reluctantly took it with her own, “H-Hera, queen of the gods.” Her headache spiked again and she groaned.

 

Sally gently held Hera’s head to the side and inspected a shrinking bump on her temple. “It’s getting better but you should still rest. That’s the last of the Ambrosia Percy had stashed here so the rest will have to heal naturally or until you get to camp tomorrow.”

 

Hera’s brow nit, “Ambrosia? But, that’s impossible.” Ambrosia tasted like nothing, it was just a warm feeling that restored one’s energy. Even the specially made pieces from the Camps  ever had a taste, and even then they were nothing memorable.

 

“That pie, where did you get that recipe.” She said accusatory.

 

Sally frowned, “Now look, I don’t care if you’re injured _or_ some god queen. I didn’t take that tone from Percy or Poseidon and I’m not taking it from you.”

 

Hera scowled but her head still hurt to much to protest. Sally nodded in satisfaction and went back to inspecting her wound.

 

    “I guess it’s because you’re mortal now” she said.

 

    “What?”

 

    Sally shrugged, “Well demi-god more likely. If you were as mortal as I am that stuff would have killed you, but Percy always told me when a demi-god eats Ambrosia, it taste like whatever their favorite food is.” She smirked, “I guess the queen of the gods has a weakness for pies?”

 

    Hera blushed but paled when what Sally said finally hit her.

 

    _“I guess it’s because you’re mortal now.”_

 

She closed her eyes and reached deep down into herself, to the source of her power. She found nothing. She focused so hard her her teeth began to grind and her headache began to throb again. And yet still she found nothing. Her other selves were gone without a trace. There was no queen of all realms stilling upon a golden throne. No robbed spectator watching the marriage of a newly wed couple sharing their big day beneath the first snow of winter. No dutiful wife tending to her garden to calm her nerves.

 

    She was mortal now. _Oh Gods. Oh Fates._ Her headache flared. She was going to be sick.

 

    “Woah, woah just stay calm.” Sally rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. “Here drink some water.”

 

    _Water?_ Her thoughts screamed. _I am the Queen of Olympus and you want me to drink WATER? I demand Nec-”_

 

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”

 

Hera’s train of thought crashed and she nearly leapt out of her skin at her husband’s voice.

 

Sally groaned, “Your husband can be quite loud can’t he?”

 

Hera didn’t respond.

 

“Hera?”

 

Sally was right next to her but her voice was fading into the background. Hera’s vision narrowed and her heart rate spiked. Her headache was pushed aside by a different, deeper, feeling. Her throat started close, her hands shook. Were the walls closing?

 

Sally’s face showed worry, “Hera are you ok?”

 

 _“What are you doing?”_ The rational part of Hera’s mind ridiculed. _“You can’t let yourself panic in front of someone, least of all a mortal. You can’t-_

 

“TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT YOU MEAN BY THAT!”

 

“I’m sorry.” Hera whimpered under her breath, knees drawn up tight against her chest and hands clutched around her ears, “Please just stop yelling.”

 

Sally looked at her in shock. _She’s judging. Of course she is judging. I will not be judged by a mortal. Get a grip!_

 

She grabbed weakly for her other selves, the version of her she left in the garden on Olympus at all times. It didn’t matter how much he yelled, how awful things could be. That part of her was always safe. The part of her that didn’t always feel on the verge of falling apart like she was now. Always free of it all. If she could just find it again, if only for a moment.

 

But now there was nothing. No place to hide, no garden to hold tight to. She was trapped in a worthless mortal body with nothing but her own weakness. She couldn’t even resist letting tears drip loose.

 

Sally’s pulled Hera into a hug, and gently guided her head upwards so they were making eye contact. “Hera, Hera breath. Stay with me just breath. In and out, slowly. Nobody is going to hurt you. Nobody is-”

 

“LITTLE SHIT” Zeus bellowed.

 

“Just give him what he wants.” Hera sobbed, losing the last vestiges of rational to her attack. “Please” she whimpered.

 

She saw Sally face to once more to shock, to realization, and then, a bitter anger. Hera winced, but through her panic she recognized the anger. Not as that of her wailing husband, but of the same kind she’d she looking back at her through her mirror on Olympus after one of Zeus more “fertile” galivants.

 

“Hera” she said, calm but stern, “Breath.”

 

Hera nodded, focused herself, and managed to hold back a sob long enough for a deep breath; and the another, and another.

 

“Good.”

 

Sally patted her softly on the head and got up from her chair. “There’s a glass of water on the nightstand next to you. Make sure to get some sleep. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to have a chat with your husband.

 

Judging by Sally’s tone, the loyal wife half of Hera began wondering just how worried she should be for her own husband’s well being. However since that part of her was currently being completely overruled by the part that was having a literal panic attack at the sound of his voice, she stayed quite.

 

Sally waved goodbye, and walked, more like stormed, out of the room. Hera curled herself into a ball and continued to breath. _In out. In out._ Slowly but surely her heart rate dropped and her hands grew steady. Well, steady enough.

 

There was a little more yelling, though almost all of it was from Sally, then silence. Hera wasn’t sure if that was a good thing but right now she didn’t care, at least the yelling stopped. Now she could start putting herself back together like she always did. Free from the eyes of others. Though she’d prefer if she could compose herself in her garden rather than some humans’ dingy bedroom.

 

She looked to the night stand, at the glass of water left for her. A drink for mortals if there ever was one. She couldn’t even remember the last time she drank it, it was always either Nectar or Wine for her, nothing less for a goddess.

 

She licked her lips. She hadn’t realized how dry and scratchy her throat had become. _Do mortals really feel like this if they haven’t drank water in a while?_

 

Tentatively, and with shaky, steady enough, hands she grabbed the glass and took a sip. Then, with human instincts she hadn’t realized she had developed, immediately downed the entire glass.

 

_That was...refreshing?_

 

She put the glass down.

 

 _Mortal bodies are fucking weird._ She’d never understand how her family took forms so close to these when they went down to mingle with mortals, or even why they did so in the first place. Why they felt the need to screw them and make problems for themselves. For their family. Her fight with Zeus before everything went to Hades crept into her mind. The things he said to her before the meeting, things not allowed outside the bond of husband and wife. No matter how much they hurt.

 

The trembling resumed and the tears returned. She felt so heavy, so, tired. That was the human word right?

 

The logical part of her brain returned with a vengeance. _Stop being pathetic._ _Olympus needs it queen. It’s perfect queen._

 

Her body, her frail mortal body ignored her mind’s orders. It continued to cry, it continued to shake. It curled up under the filthy mass produced _human made_ blankets and rested it’s head down on a pillow that wasn’t even blessed by the heavens. But still her mind persisted.

 

_That ignorant little mortal maggot of a woman is off insulting your husband. Get up, march out there, and demand her respect. Nobody insults your other half, nobody hurts him. Even if he...even if…_

 

Hera’s body was far too tired to deal with her mind. Within seconds of her head touching the pillow her eyelids dropped and she succumbed to Hypno’s touch. Her mind was forced into slumber. Though she continued to cry, shake, and sob quietly through till dawn.

  


* * *

 

   

    After spending the past few millennia, the last two hundred years more specifically, literally running around the globe at the behest of his fellow gods, Hermes had forgotten how good sleep felt. He also forgot, much to his chagrin the next morning, how truly awful it felt to wake up.

 

    “Fucking dry mouth” he whined as he heaved himself out of bed and gave himself a good slap. This was no time to be moaning.

 

With Percy apparently being out with Annabeth on a weekend trip they’d need to get to camp half blood quick. He could only imagine whatever the hell might be happening on Olympus without them there.

 

As he stood up a chill ran down his spine.

 

    _“How many missed phone calls do I have?”_

 

He slapped himself again before that horrid thought could force him back into bed.

 

    _“Be responsible”_ He thought, _“Between Zeus and Hera you’re basically the only adult in the group.”_

 

He slowly nudged open the bedroom door and tiptoed down the half as to not wake the Jacksons. They caused the couple enough trouble last night, no need to spread it to the morning.

 

    _“Now if I can wake up Zeus without stepping into the literal FUCKING bear trap that is his temper maybe we can make a clean-”_

 

Zeus’ blankets were on the ground, his ice pack lying on the coffee table. And the big man himself was missing.

 

    “Well” Hermes muttered to himself.

 

    “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to upload. The start of the semester was more hectic than I expected and I found it hard to make time for writing, but I should be on an bi-weekly upload schedule for now. Oh and I know the chapter title is different. After I started writing I realized I needed to split this into two chapters for things to flow right. Don't worry, the Zeus punching WILL be coming.


	7. Zeus Gets Beat Up By a Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay, had a bit more trouble with this chapter than I thought and my weekend was completely packed so I had a hard time trying to find the time to put the finishing touches on it. Welp without further adieu here you go!

If the gods were still in heaven, Varrian would have cursed them for making him forget to unplug his alarm clock. Sadly, or in the grand scheme of things happily, they were probably slumming it in some random gutter halfway across the continent by now. That meant that when the shrieking piece of metal besides his face came to life at 7:00AM sharp he had nobody to blame but himself. 

 

He slapped the snooze button of his alarm clock as fast as he’d pulled any knife on an unlucky mugger; Cyclops or human. After silence was restored he held his breath for a few agonizing moments to hear any unwanted stirring. Justine muttered something unintelligible in her sleep, tighten the arms she had draped around his torso, and settled with a content sigh. Varrian let out a relieved sigh, smiled, and let his head rest back onto his shared pillow. Once he was awake he couldn’t get back to sleep, never could in fact, but at least his forgetfulness didn’t ruin her sleep as well. 

 

Their night on Olympus had to be cut short, going up in flames as the little godlings ran around like chickens with their heads cut off made the whole place a bit too, what’s the word, disruptive for a calming first date. After reporting in the success with Mrs. P, and getting one of her once in a blue moon faint smiles, they had been free to enjoy a night to themselves. 

 

Of course it being past one in the morning, and them being below the drinking age (Damn you Mrs. P and your stupid rules, we just toppled the cosmic order and you can’t even allow us one drink?) there really wasn’t much for them to do. So they resorted to what any hot blooded and newly dating teenage couple would clearly do in such a moment that demanded celebration. Stay up till four in the morning playing Smash Bros and eating microwave pizza! What else? 

 

Oh sure they also could have played some DnD, Varrian was dying to try out the Greek monster expansion, if only for the amount of eye-rolls id get him. But Juliet would shank them if they interrupted her beauty sleep, Belle was too shy to role play anything, neither of them particularly cared to talk to Usagi more than they had to, and little B, well, nobody who wanted to keep all their limbs went near little B. Eh, didn’t matter, besides the night was to be about them, not their less than friendly co-workers.

 

Varrian looked down at the empty plate at the foot of his bed and whined in disappointment. Sure he’d devoured the whole pizza that laid there only, what, three? Four hours ago? But he was nineteen, still basically kind of sort of a growing boy, he needed FOOD!

But that was where his dilemma kicked in. On one hand Justine and him and been so tired they fell asleep while cuddling between matches and he did NOT want to mess up the absurdly comfortable position he found himself in. On the other hand, breakfast. His stomach growled. He’d chosen to overthrow the gods themselves when he turned fourteen yet this was probably the hardest choice he’d ever had to make.

 

Justine cuddled closer again and Varrian’s heart skipped a beat.  _ Correction,  _ he thought.  _ It will be the easiest choice i’ve ever made. _

 

__ When Justine settled again he carefully twisted himself in her grasp so they were lying face to face. His heart sank at what he saw.

 

“Oh J” he muttered. His girlfriend was shivering and sweating, her sleeping face contorting into a painful grimace. A weak and quiet sob escaped her lips. Varrian pulled her in close and stroked her hair. “It’s ok, I’m here, I’m here” he whispered.

 

_ She said the nightmares stopped. _ He thought bitterly. He looked down at her face again. Tears were starting to stain her dark skinned cheeks. He wiped them away.  _ You’re an idiot for buying that. _

 

__ Justine never told him the full story of what happened. Only bits and pieces over the course of years. Never once did he ask and never once will he. It’s not his place to make her, but still. He hugged her a bit tighter, hoping she could feel him through the bounds of her nightmare and maybe find some peace.  _ How can I help her? _

 

The door to Varrian’s room was violently kicked open. Justine’s instincts kicked in first this time. Her eyes shot open, fresh tears making them bloodshot. Her expression of pain snap freezing into one of anger. She kicked Varrian in the gut without a moment’s hesitation and reached for the dagger she always hid in her back pocket and through it with all her strength towards the intruder. Varrian didn’t wait to see if it met it’s mark.

 

Justine, eyes burning with a crazed fury, moved to lung. Varrian clambered to his feet and jumped in front of her, forcefully pulling her into a bear hug. “Justine, Justine it’s me!” He cried.

 

It took over a minute, but slowly the rage clouding her eyes faded, her heart rate slowed, and her mind began to overtake her instincts. She blinked three times and looked up at Varrian with a look of utter confusion. She looked over his shoulder and cringed.

 

“It happened again didn’t it?” She muttered.

 

The knife had found it’s home lodged in the door frame a mere few inches above the head of a short middle aged man in a lab coat, holding an Ipad and what seemed to be a permanent scowl on his face. “Yes, it did” he said.

 

Justine’s cheeks flushed red and her eyes suddenly found her own bare feet extremely interesting. Varrian took Justine’s hand in his own and scowled at the intruder, “That doesn’t matter, what does is why you barged into my room, Klaus.”

 

Klaus rolled his eyes and muttered something about damn teenager under his breath, “We have a new mission for you and Justine.” He looked the two flustered and annoyed teenagers over, “It appears I don’t have to go far to tell you both.”

 

“Just tell us already.” Varrian growled.

 

Klaus sighed and made a few quick taps on his Ipad, “Your mission last night was a success, on that I guess I have to congratulate you two.” 

 

Varrian rolled his eyes, “Wow, such high praise.”

 

Klaus sneared but continued on, “As I was saying, we’ve picked up readings of twelve gods ejected from Olympus and scattered around North America.”

 

Justine looked up, frowning, “Wait only twelve? Aren’t there fourteen targets?’

 

Klaus shrugged, “Dionysus rarely shows up to the meetings so we didn’t get him, and according to the readings we got Hestia apparently was lucky enough not to eat the tainted Ambrosia.”

 

Varrian groaned, “Great, so Olympus isn’t done for.”

 

“Eh, twelve out of fourteen is fine for now, we’ll finish the other two off the hard way, but for now we need to focus on phase two.”

 

He handed the ipad to Justine, on it were the faces of two boys and a girl their age. Klaus explained, “This is what our simulators guess Zeus, Hera, and Hermes now look like, we also analyzed their trajectory and found they fell within the limits of Manhattan.”

 

“So close?” She asked.

 

“Yep, it’s our lucky day, but that means they’ll be at the Camp soon so we have to act fast.”

 

“You mean  _ we _ have to act fast right?”

 

Klaus sighed, “Yes Varrian,  _ you  _ two need to act fast, you know what to do when you catch them right?”

 

“Of course” replied Justine, her confidence steadily returning after her outburst.

 

Varrian donned a shit-eating grin, “We were trained by the best after all.”

 

Klaus scowled, ”Flattery will get you nowhere boy.” He took his Ipad back, “I’ve added a short range scanner to your equipment so you can track them easier, now leave, you have ten minutes to start your mission.”

 

Varrian sighed and rubbed the sand from his eyes, “And no one else can do it because?”

 

“The rest of the Mortal Seven are leaving to track the others.”

 

“We’re still using that shitty name?”

 

“Shut up it’s cool.”

 

“Whatever you say  _ boss _ .”

 

Klaus huffed indignantly, muttered yet another insult about teenagers, and stormed out of Varrian’s room. Not paying the frustrating man anymore mind, Varrian turned his attention to Justine. He stroked her hand with his thumb.

 

“Justine are-”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Gone was the girl whimpering in her sleep, she was buried beneath a new face. This new one resembled her look when she’d lashed out, but far more in control. Her face was cold, calculated, and coating a fire of barely contained anger at nothing in particular. Or perhaps everything.

 

“I’m fine” she repeated. “We’ve got a mission to do, let’s go catch us some gods.”

 

She gave his hand a playful squeeze contradictory to her demeanor and let go, “I’m going to go get changed, meet me at the front gate in five.” And then she was gone, pulling her knife from the door frame as she left.

 

Varrian stood there quietly, with a million worried thoughts bouncing around in his head. He opened one of his drawers and pulled out a fresh set of clothing. Stepped over the empty discarded boxes of pizza, their lingering scent reminding him of the night before. The night where Justine couldn’t stop smiling. It was then, all alone, that Varrian finally muttered the rest of his question.

 

“-Doing ok?”

 

* * *

 

Zeus ignored the cold winds of the early morning and stormed out of the Jackson residence all by his lonesome.

 

Correction, the phrase “By his lonesome” implies a sense of melancholy, regret, and isolation. All emotions that Zeus, Lord of the Universe, could NOT be feeling at this moment, or any moment for that matter, in time. For it is written in the very fabric of the cosmos that Zeus, King of the Gods is in fact king of  _ all _ things and is perpetually surrounded by those who love and worship him.

 

A car drove by him, splashing a puddle of freezing cold brown water directly in his face and speeding away.

 

_ Even if the ingrates can’t tell yet.  _

 

__ Zeus, Absolute Babe Magnet of Olympus, shivered and swore as he attempted to dry himself off to no avail. On any other day he’d flash hisd divine form and vaporize the slighting liquid, and the ignorant twat who was responsible, oh, and probably the entire city block as well. After all none of the early risers out on the streets had seemed in any rush to kneel before him and aid him in his travels. Was his godly grace really so diminished by some bad Ambrosia?

 

He clenched his fist and grit his teeth. The sting of his black eye still ever present.  _ I will make them bow.  _ He thought bitterly.

 

He marched onward, down the streets of Manhattan to the towering place where he belonged, to Olympus. If those that cursed him so were there then so be it, he grab the nearest blade and rend the limb from limb. He’d rally the citizens of the eternal city and secure his Lightning Bolt. He’d reduce those profane heathens who dared to even attempt to sully the might of Olympus, of the Gods, of Him.

 

As he rounded the latest corner and found himself only a single block from the gates of the Empire State Building, his mood began to improve considerably.  _ Yes, yes everything gets better from here _ . He thought. Soon he’d be among his truest of allies, the unwavering loyalty of the Olympian people. No brothers to debate him, no sons to fight him, no daughters to question him, no wife to nag him. 

 

He found his mood souring again at that last thought, just as it always did when Hera’s _disappointed_ floated into his mind. Why couldn’t that woman just _behave_. His mind flashed back to the moments before they were thrown from their domain, to their last moments of Divinity. (Not last, just most recent). He should have been able to tell something was wrong, he should have been able to stop this farce before it began. But _NO,_ his wife just had to distract him with another stupid debate about the things he did on his nights off. 

 

_ Bah. _ The prophecy had come and gone. Why should he stop his exploits? If he wished to bless the lucky mortal souls of this earth with his conquests, why should he be stopped? Why should Hera control him?A wife is suppose to be supporting, loving, able to smooth an aching heart after a long day. Not inflame divine headaches ever time her husband goes for a night out! 

 

He muttered bitterly to himself as he trudged down the street, not caring if passerbys gave him odd looks or steered their children far clear of his path. Their ignorance, no, insolence couldn’t phase a god! 

 

He would have scowled at them, if scowling didn't agitate the lump his good for nothing step child gave him.  _ Why did Hera get the last square of Ambrosia? Why did he only get the bag of frozen mortal peas?  _ He thought, now scowling despite the pain.  _ Surely the injury of their king meant more than one to his wife! Sure that was a slight to him to, but priorities! _

 

Things should have never gone this way, why if Metis-

 

Zeus froze in place but a block from his destination. His eyes widening at his own thought. His scowl deepened.  _ Don’t think about that. It’s over, nothing for it. This is what you have now. _

 

He looked down at his hands, still smattered with scars, tiny imperfections left by the claws of a stray cat. These hands clenched. His black eye continued to throb. A boiling bile began to rise in Zeus throat. 

 

“I deserve better than this” he hissed.

 

“Do you now?”

 

Zeus turned to find he wasn’t alone. Behind him stood a girl so close he briefly wondered how on earth she snuck up on him. She was the same height as him, or perhaps, dare he even think it, an inch taller. Her curly brown hair fell lazily in front of her face. 

 

“And who are you?” He spat, a few drops of spittle flew out of his mouth and hit her in the face. She didn’t blink and casually flicked the offending liquid off with her thumb.

 

“Now is that the way you talk to a lady?” She deadpanned.

 

Now, if Zeus wasn’t having such a bad day already, he might have been able to conduct himself in a more controlled manor. But given that he once vaporized a british demi-god because his accent annoyed him, that wasn’t a very likely scenario anyhow. “Is that a way to talk to your king?” He growled.

 

“King” she muttered, taking an Iphone out of her pocket and snapping a picture of him.

 

“Why you little-” Zeus swung a clumsy fist in her direction. She backstepped, paying him little mind as he nearly fell on his face when he lost his balance. She tipped furiously on her phone, frowning the whole time, before sighing loudly.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 

“I assure you I take the tone I’m addressed in very seriously.” Zeus replied indignantly, as talented at reading the room as he ever was.

 

“Welp the readings don’t lie, you’re Zeus all right.”

 

“Finally somebody recognizes me!” He shouted, not noticing the massive eye roll the girl gave him.

 

“Still” she continued, face contorting in a look of disgust, “I expected you to be a little more...intimidating for all the things you’ve done.” She reached for a small tube tied to the small of her back.

 

Something told Zeus things were going south fast, it was a shame his reflexes in his new body were, as the kids say, shit.

 

“Well I guess it’s a good thing.” She declared, extending her bow staff and smacking Zeus upside the head.

 

“This just makes the job easier.”

 

The fallen king of the gods went flying into the nearest alleyway and face first into a bag of several day old garbage. He stumbled blearily to his feet only to take a roundhouse kick straight to the groin that sent him back into the cold New York pavement.

 

The girl twirled her staff in her hand. It was simple yet elegantly designed Imperial gold rod that’s full length was almost as tall as her. A bit of Zeus mortal blood stained one of the ends. She snapped her fingers and immediately the air behind her began to shimmer with a pale light, as if a hazy, vaguely translucent wall had just been erected there. 

 

“Mist Manipulation?” He asked, pulling himself up against the wall of the alley way.  _ A power exclusive only to the gods and the most skilled of their children.  _ He thought grimly.

 

The girl nodded. “Don’t want any mortals watching you get beat up by a girl do you?” 

 

One last pot shot at his pride under her belt, she swept her staff into both hands and lowered into a fighting stance. Her face as stoic and impartial as the Border god Terminus but held in her eyes a glare so full of hate it managed to make Zeus wince.

 

And then she attacked.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Back in the days of early antiquity, when he was a mortal boy of flesh and bone, Hermes was known as the dreaded Quicksilver. He could outrun a hunter by the time he was seven, and a horse by ten. Battling him was like fighting the air itself. Regrettably, spending close to four-thousand years as a divine metaphysical being who never  _ technically _ needed to run anywhere, meant he was pretty damn rusty when he went sprinting out after his ass hole of a father in law.

 

He bounded around another corner, clumsily dodging a cyclist and nearly slipping on a patch of ice.  _ Sloppy.  _ He grimaced. When this bullshit was over and done with and he got his divinity back he’d have to work going for as human a jog as possible every day. After all-Hermes actually managed to slip on another ice patch and landed flat on his ass-this was just embarrassing.

 

_ No time for self pity!  _ He thought, pulling himself  to his feet. He had a mission, to save a senile old prick in the body of a high school hasbin waiting to happen from his own stupidity. 

 

_ I’d bet a thousand Drachma they’re gonna start hunting us. We have to get to camp fas-oh. _

He slid to a graceless stop as he turned a corner and neared the Empire State Building. His eyes caught Zeus a block down from him, “ _ Well thank the-”,  _ half a second before he was bitch smacked upside the head and launched into a dark alleyway by a teenage girl. 

 

_ If only I had a camera,  _ a part of him thought while the rest of him got prepared for a fight. If by  _ prepared for a fight  _ actually meant  _ scrambling back behind a the nearest building.  _ What? He was a fighter. Just a smart one that didn’t particularly like getting bitch smacked if he could help it.

 

He poked his head back around the corner to see the girl follow Zeus into the alley, he could see the hate in her eyes from here.

 

_ Well, shit  _ he thought.  _ Come on, think, think, you do well under pressure, now come up with a plan to beat the scary lady with a four foot murder pole. _

 

He wildly looked around at his surroundings and a thought occurred to him when he remembered a certain restaurant nearby. He smiled,  _ time for some reinforcements. _

 

Making sure the attacker was promptly out of sight and probably to busy man handling his step father to notice him, he bolted down the street as fast as his wingless feet could carry him.  _ Where was it, where was it?  _ Not having a GPS in his head was certainly a loss he’d have to mourn more in depth later, but his years of skills as a thief began to return to him from across the eons. He didn’t need any fancy god tracking, he could remember any place he’d ever seen with clarity, and how to get there almost as well. After all-

 

- _ He smiled as the restaurant came into view. “Que De La Kiss” The perfect place for a breakfast date. He should know, he recommended it to one young couple just the other day. ANd if he remembered correctly, which he always did,God or not, then today they’d be- _

 

-He could just barely see the two of the from the front window.  _ Now to get their attention.  _ He picked up speed and grinned. _ The Hermes way! _

 

Running at full speed, he slammed straight into the glass. Sadly, or rather beneficially to the couple, the glass was plexiglass, stupid, modern, nigh indestructible, plexiglass. Hermes practically bounced off it and landed hard on his ass.

_ Stupid modern technology. _

 

He pulled himself up against the aches and pains crawling through his body and gave the couple a smile. “Help!” He yelled.

 

Plexiglass was soundproof, but Jason got the picture.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Little known fact, Zeus was a proud god. Well, proud teenager as it was now but proud is the operating word here. No matter the situation, he liked to imagine he always did what needed to be done with a bold grace and unflinching affirmation. Again,  _ No matter the situation.  _ So Zeus did not, at first, run from his confrontation with his attacker. Instead he stood, well sat. He’d fallen flat on his ass of course. He sat in her line of attack, grabbed the nearest weapon, a discarded soup can, and threw it with all his might. That would show her.

 

She batted it aside without breaking a stride. It was when Zeus couldn’t find a second can that he began to worry.

 

Lucky for him, his new human instincts override his stubborn pride in time for him to duck out of the way as the head of her staff slammed into the brick wall where he  just was. He lunged for a rock, something  _ far  _ more dangerous than the common soup can, and threw it. She caught it with ease and gave him a curious look. 

 

“Do you have  _ anything _ else?” She asked.

 

Zeus considered a moment. He patted himself down to see if he’d potentially missed some magic pen in one of his pockets that could transform into his Lightning Bolt. There wasn’t one. This fact did not dissuade Zeus’ next course of action in the slightest.

 

“I have one more trick up my sleeve!” He boasted.

 

“Really.” She replied dryly, dropping the rock and stepping forward, weapon drawn.

 

“Really.” Zeus roared and, in a moment of pure tactical brilliance, charged at the enemy with greater reach. In his defense, this did surprise her. Not enough to slow her rebuttal by even a millisecond, but hey, what are you going to do?

 

The girl smacked Zeus in the temple as if she were batting at a baseball game. Zeus toppled to the ground again. Apparently the Fates decided it was  _ his  _ turn to get a concussion. Zeus let out a very audible groan of discomfort. Now it might have just been the sound of his skull cracking, but Zeus could have sworn he’d heard the stoic girl laugh. Nah, definitely the cracking skull.

 

“Well credit where credit is due” the girl remarked, “It is impressive that neither of those hits knocked you out. Guess a thick skull has a few advantages.” Through his blurry vision Zeus could see her winding up for another strike.

 

This is the moment where some subconscious part of Zeus decided his mortal safety was more important than his pride.

 

Zeus, most certainly  _ not _ whimpering in pain as he did it, rolled out of the way of her staff and scrambled to his feet. He broke into run. The girl swept his leg with the speed of his own bolt. Zeus’ face met the filthy New York pavement for what felt the hundredth time in that day.

 

The girl pressed the heel of her boot into the small of his back and ground it in. Zeus grit his teeth. “What’s wrong?” She ground her heel in further, “All bark and no bite?”

 

Her persona broke and a scowl began to creep over her face. Hate seeped from her eyes and mixed with other emotions that almost looked like disappointment and...betrayal?

 

“This was supposed to be a challenge” she growled.

 

“You mean to tell me my whole life I’ve been training to take you monsters down and THIS is the best you can give me?” She slammed one end of her bow staff so hard beside Zeus’ head that it cracked the pavement. He couldn’t help but let out a small whimper in response. That only seemed to anger her more. 

 

She kneeled down on his back and pulled out a strange celestial bronze syringe. It was empty. Somehow that fact unnerved Zeus more than the alternative. She leaned down so her forehead touched the back of Zeus’ head, her chocolaty locks fell down and covered his eyes. Zeus struggled and thrashed but to no avail. This woman, this,  _ girl _ had managed to utterly overpower him.

 

Zeus felt the cold tip of the syringe touch his throat, “Here’s hoping your sons will be more satisfying” she growled.

 

Zeus smelled ozone.

 

_ “Oh boy.” _

 

Lighting fell from the sky. The girl kicked herself off his back just in time to dodge. The kick set Zeus rolling just inches out of the blast as well. That didn't stop his hair from shooting up on all ends and the tingling of electricity from vibrating through his entire body from his toes to his molars. He never thought he’d say this, but getting hit with a lightning bolt was somehow  _ unpleasant.  _ This revelation confused and confounded Zeus but, ultimately, had to be saved for a later date. Now, onto more pressing issues, namely, his son.

 

“Stand down.” For a mortal Zeus had to admit his son’s voice was certainly commanding. Jason Grace floated down from the roof of a nearby building and came to a hover five feet above their heads and directly between Zeus and his assailant. The power of the sky rippled in the form of a powerful breeze across his body, ruffling his clothes and blowing through his hair. A bold black tattoo of an eagle over the letters SPQR lay emblazoned on his right forearm.

 

Clearly, the assailant didn’t find his orders that convincing. She rose to her feet, dusted herself off, glared at the intruder, and moved in.

 

Jason quickly fired off another bolt from his hands. At such short range and distance from the sky, this one was weaker than the last but still powerful enough to be near lethal.

 

The girl swung her staff. One head connected with the bolt which traveled up it’s length in less than a blink. For the briefest of moments her weapon looked the spitting image of Zeus’ own lightning bolt. The girl did a spin, flipped the charged staff around, and fired the bolt of lightning back at Jason.

 

His son’s eyes went wide as the arc slammed into his chest and sent him spiralling to the ground. That bolt would have killed a normal man and knocked out any demi-god that wasn’t Zeus or Jupiter’s own, but Jason managed to pull himself up with only a little struggle. His hair was ruined though, standing up in comical spikes.

 

“How did-”

 

She tapped her coat, “Thick rubber linings in all my clothing and gloves. Also not a spec of metal on me aside from  _ Ozymandias  _ here.” She tapped her staff against the ground. “Which is outfitted to store and redirect electricity.” She smiled, “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t have countermeasures did you? After all-”

 

She charged him again, “I came here to fight the God of Lightning himself.”

 

The first person in a whole day to say any of his titles with any bit of respect and it was the woman who was trying to kill him. Oh joy.

 

Jason flipped his golden coin and materialized and golden spear not much different than her  _ Ozymandias.  _ The two weapons clashed and sparks quite literally flew.

 

Jason fought admirably, his years of training, leadership, and questing made him one of the best fighters in the legion, perhaps the greatest except for potentially Reyna. But even through his concussion, Zeus knew a tight spot when he saw one.

 

He was disoriented from the initial recoil and lost the first clash of blades. He’d been put on the defensive almost immediately, trapped against the wall of the alley, he’d needed to switch to his sword to properly fend her off. Any electricity he tried to channel was either grounded by the woman’s clothing or absorbed and dished back out by her staff. He made an attempt to fly back into the sky and regain the high ground, but with her staff’s superior reach she battered him down before he got more than a foot off the ground.

 

_ And that girl.  _ Zeus thought.  _ She fights like a beast.  _

 

Jason couldn’t get in a moment's rest as she continued to beat down his defenses with a relentlessly brutal barrage. It was like nothing tired her, no swing or block was even a fraction slower than the last. She looked as if she could go on for ages and never fail to perform each and every strike with the same calculated precision. All with her newly returned expression of impartiality. Jason had been trained since birth to fight for the gods. But it appeared as if this girl had been  _ bred  _ to fight them. And win.

 

A swift kick to the side interrupted her flow and sent Jason to the ground. She followed it up with a brutal smash down on Jason’s knee. The son of Jupiter cried out in pain.

 

“Now stay down, I don’t want to have to kill you.” She remarked impassively. “After all it’s not your fault you side with them.” She turned her attention back to Zeus, who had already begun to slowly back towards the exit of the alley. She glared daggers at him, “It’s just how you were raised, how you were programmed.” Her eyes darkened and she pointed her staff head at Zeus while still speaking to his son. “Just who are you?” Zeus asked.

 

“Justine’s the name, now where were we?”

 

Once again, she charged. And once again, she was intercepted. Not by Jason, but by another girl. 

 

Piper McLean arrived just in time to slam shoulder first into Justine. It wasn’t enough to knock the larger girl down, but the quick knife to her gut was. The assailant reeled back in pain and smacked Piper to the side with  _ Ozmandias _ . 

 

“Fuck” she grunted, nearly doubling over. She use her staff to steady herself. 

 

Piper did the same with a nearby wall, clutching her probably badly bruising side. Her eyes were every bit as angry as Justine, but these were fueled with a desire to protect rather than hate.

 

“Don’t fucking touch my boyfriend” she spat. Her eyes darted to Zeus, “Or, his dad to I guess.”

 

Justine spat blood back and attacked. Piper dodged and lunged again with her dagger and moved to block the incoming follow up attack with her second smaller dagger. Justine’s wound slowed her down more than Piper’s slowed her, she could put her full force behind each swing, allowing Piper to block them, if only barely. The two exchanged blows, each wincing in pain as they attacked and defended in a deadlock. A deadlock that was broken when Justine managed to sweep Piper’s legs from under her. She raised her staff to land the finishing blow, and-

 

“Surrender!” Yelled Piper.

 

Justine’s eyes widened as she immediately backed off enough for Piper to roll away. Zeus felt a part of his own will buckle at her voice, as if he wanted to submit to her every whim.  _ So this is what charmspeak is like to mortals.  _ He thought, trying his hardest not to drop to his knees.  _ That’s terrifying. _

  
  


Piper hopped to her feet, “I said surrender!”

 

Zeus fell to his knees.

 

Justine cringed and her grip on  _ Ozymandias  _ slackened for a moment, before tightening again. “Sorry” she said, then clocked Piper over the head with her staff. The daughter of Aphrodite tumbled to the ground, joining Zeus’ concussion party.

 

“But you’ve got nothing on Juliet.” She said through gritted teeth. She left Piper on the ground, dazed and slurring her speech, and faced Zeus again. Zeus solemnly picked up the soup can from earlier. But before she could hobble over to finally finish whatever she came there to do, she was, for the first time, finally knocked off her feet. A large gust, more like a wall really, of wind tore through the alley. 

 

Jason had managed to pull himself back onto his good knee. He held his arms together and outwords, channeling all the air around him into the strongest wind tunnel he could muster. Hermes kneeled next to him, one arm slung around his step brother and pressing against the wall. 

“That’s it, keep her steady” he yelled over the roaring winds. In his hand he held twin knife made of imperial gold, probably spares Jason kept on hand. He flipped the knife around, closed one eye, and angled up a shot. 

 

“Steady.”

 

Justine struggled and failed to rise back to her feet, her wound refusing her any of her strength.

 

“Now!” Hermes threw the knifes, the winds carrying them perfectly, the first one went slightly off target, slashing off a part of her coat. The other went directly into Justine’s left shoulder, mere inches from her heart.

 

Jason’s stamina gave out and the wind ceased. Justine howled in pain and stumbled backwards into a wall, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.” She cradled her shoulder with her good arm and glared at those in attendance as if by virtue of her own malice it would vaporize them all. She hadn’t lost her grip on her staff, and for a brief moment, it looked like she might still try to fight.

 

Zeus’ eyes caught on something, the skin of her right arm was exposed now, revealing a black tattoo of a set of scales and the letters SPQR. 

 

“You’re Legion.” Jason said in disbelief.

 

Justine scowled, be it through pain or Jason’s observation, Zeus couldn't tell which.

 

“You know” remarked Hermes, drawing her attention, “That knife is poisoned, you’ll be dead soon if you don’t leave now.”

 

“Legion doesn’t carry poisoned weapons around casually.” She growled. “You’re lying.”

 

Hermes gave an anxious, but no less shit eating than usual, grin, “You wanna waste time rolling those dice?” 

 

Zeus wasn’t sure how, but Justine’s scowl deepened, “I’ll be back.”

 

Hermes nodded, “Of course you will be.”

 

And with that the strange assailant Justine, glittering staff  _ Ozymandias  _ in hand, heaved herself off of the wall and trudged her way past the wounded demi-gods. She gave Hermes and Zeus one last hatefield glare, and darted down the street as fast as a woman with a hole in their gut and a knife in their shoulder could go, her mist trailing lazily behind her.

 

After a long pause, Zeus finally spoke, “We sure showed her.” 

 

He then, with all the aforementioned grace of the gods, lost his lunch on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Zeus, truly a paragon all of humanity must aspire to be.  
> But in all seriousness this is the first of many major confrontations in this story and it ended with a less than favorable tie, needing back-up from both Jason and Piper to force Justine to retreat. Some might say Justine did a bit TOO well in a fight against two of the seven but I feel the fight went pretty much as one might expect. This shadowy mortal seven are prepared, knowing just how to counter the powers of the gods and, at least in Justine's case, plenty of combat skill to throw down with the best of the demi-gods.
> 
> Now, onto Justine and Varrian, the first two major OCs of this fic to get any real development. The daughter of Nemesis and the son of Eris are a strange couple, but if a son of Posiedon and daughter of Athena can work out then I guess anythings ago. We've got a few hints at Justine's backstory, having apparently been a member of the Leigon at one point, holding out a grudge to Zeus and his sons, and having some hellish demons in her past. All of which I hope to explore more in depth later. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and please leave a comment about your thoughts below, I'd love any and all feedback you can give me. See you next time!
> 
> Next Up: Chapter 8: Hera's Terrible Morning


	8. Chapter 8: Hera's Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera's has a bad time. (Trigger Warning: Heavily Implied Domestic Abuse)

**A/N:**

**FIIIIIIINNNNNNNAAAAAALLLLLLYYYYYYYYYY. Between midterms and my struggles writing Hera's character this chapter took over twice as long to make and post than it probably should have. I'm sorry the scheduled uploads have been so random for this fic, I'll try to keep to the every other week plan but don't count on this becoming super consistent till mid May when the Semester ends. Anyways enjoy one of the longer chapters and please tell me any and all feedback you have!**

**Oh and TRIGGER WARNING: Heavily Implied Domestic Abuse. Proceed with caution.**

**Chapter 8: Hera's Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning**

Hera, Queen of Olympus, lived a nightmare that began with a ring.

Said ring was a brilliant twisting of Gold, Bronze, and Ruby that lay upon a font of darkness that sprawled out in front of her. It glowed soft and gentle, welcoming her. Hera's eyes were drawn to it, unable to look away. If there was anything at all around her she didn't notice. All that mattered was the ring.

She stumbled forward, mind and body weighed down by an impossible weariness. She reached out her hand to grasp the bejeweled trinket only for it to be snatched away. From the darkness, a ghostly hand of wispy blues and greens placed the ring upon one of it's fingers. It was mocking her. It was stealing from her. Hera HATED it.

With a roar more akin to a wounded pup than noble beast, Hera lunged for the ring. The hand retracted further, Hera continued the pursuit, she chased her prize and it's thief through the bowls of her nightmare. Her whole body whined for her to stop, but something deeper than a little pain blocked it all out. It was an aching deep within her core that she knew could only be calmed by what lay before her.

She roared again, this time hate turning it into a snarl.

"MINE!"

She grabbed the hand, her nails digging in deep, and pulled it towards her. It struggled and thrashed against her grip but Hera refused to let go. She pried and pried at her ring but it refused to leave the thief's hand.

"I DESERVE IT, IT'S MINE!"

The hand bucked her and she began to slide. She was now hanging in suspension over the void, one hand in a death grip around the ring that still clung to the thief. But just as the hand moved to buck her off completely, it froze, went slack, and vanished.

And then, Hera fell.

She fell, fell so far she wondered if she'd passed Tartarus, and then she stopped. Pain unlike anything she'd ever felt before shot through her body as she connected with cold stone. No, marble. The pain was unbearable, or rather, it would be if she cared. Because in her hand lay her prize. In her hand lay her wedding ring.

She shrieked, joy barely edging out over the agony. Slowly, she slid the ring onto her finger.

The aching froze.

Then everything was on fire.

* * *

Hera awoke so fast she nearly fell out of bed. Her heart pounded in her ears and her hands shook something fierce. Instinctually, her mind reached out for her garden on Olympus, only to remember her unfortunate state of affairs. Her hands went to the ring around her finger instead.

Letting out a tired, frustrated whine, she clutched the sides of her head and close her eyes.

"Deep breaths" she muttered.

Slowly her breathing steadied and her heart quieted, but her hands refused to stop shaking.

"Stop it" she hissed. Her hands ignored her.

She groaned and put the rebellious hands to use, wiping away the annoying fresh tears that had leaked out overnight. She already probably looked like a train wreck, she didn't need to make it worse.

With the closest thing she could get to calm achieved, Hera pulled herself out of bed. As offending and emotionally invasive a taste as the Ambrosia was, her concussion had healed nicely. It was now little more than a mild headache tucked beneath her right temple.

"All right Hera" she said to herself in as commanding a voice as possible.

"You're a queen, now act like it."

And with that she stood up as straight as possible and strode out of the bed room.

* * *

There were seven things that hit Hera that morning.

The first was a sound. The coos of a child seemed to flutter down the hall to greet her.  _I didn't know the Jacksons had a mortal child._ She mused until she was hit by the second thing. The smell.

At first it offended her, burning and scrunching her fleshy human nostrils, but as she drew further down the hallway she grew used to it and recomposed herself. It reminded her of some foul and vulgar food Aries had brought home one day about a century ago, one he always looked forward to in his offerings.

"Bacon is ready!" She heard Sally call out as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.

The mortal woman turned to see her enter, "Good you're up. Want any?"

Hera stayed quiet.

"The bacon I mean."

Hera analyzed the strips of greasy meat and raised a stiff upper lip, "Don't you think that's an  _improper_ dish to serve a goddess?"

Sally looked at the bacon, then at her, then back to the bacon.

"Not particularly, no."

" _Common savage_ " Hera thought.

" _This is precisely why-"_

Hit number three: The hunger.

Hera's stomach finally woke up and decided to assert it's new found dominance over the rest of her mortal body. The growl it let loose had rivaled the guttural roars of any of Echidnas' children in both volume and ferocity.

Her cheeks flushed. Sally suppressed a chuckle and poured several pieces of the greasy meat onto a plate and placed it on the kitchen table across from her husband and daughter in a height chair.

The woman pulled out a chair and motioned to Hera to sit down, "Well?"

Her stomach growled again and quieted any rebellious thoughts she might have had at the mortal mother's rude tone. She slid into her seat and cautiously (have to keep up appearances of course) took a small fraction of a nibble.

" _Huh-"_ She thought. " _It's not actually that-"_

Hit number four: The flavor.

" _-HOLY SHIT"_

She shoved the entire piece into her mouth. The crunch, the warm sizzle, where oh where had this been all her immortal life? She dived for more, deciding to temporarily ignore the triumphant smirk on Sally Jackson's face as she gobbled up the rest of the fatty blessings.

A few seconds later she found herself staring down at an empty plate covered in crumbs. Her stomach, calmed but not satisfied, burbled quietly. Sheepishly she reached for her plate.

" _What are you doing?"_ Her inner voice nagged at her.

" _Don't you DARE eat those. It's bad enough that you just ate such a base MORTAL food. The Queen of the Gods, the FOUNDATION of Olympus does not eat CRUMBS!"_

She lowered her hand shamefully into her lap.

The baby in the height chair giggled and cooed at her sullen display. Hera shot it a glare...to which the child just giggled again, this time louder and longer. Hera's scowl faltered.

"Looks like Estelle likes you."

Hera directed her attention to the man sitting across from her. Mr. Jackson, Paul she believed his name was, she vaguely remembered hearing it when she was fading in and out of consciousness from the concussion.

Hera frowned.  _Those are the first memories I have that I can't remember clearly,_ she thought. Stowing the disturbing implications of her now faulty mortal memory away for later, she responded to Mrs. Jackson's second husband with the elegance she believed he deserved.

"So she does" she said flatly.

Paul cleared his throat and tried to continue, "Sooooo, did you uh, sleep well?"

Hera gave him a half hearted glare. Though she lacked the usual godly aura and eighteen foot stature that gave her her, "One more word and I turn you into a Peacock" vibe, she found herself blessed with a strikingly similar power, in the form of the aura given off by a woman without her morning coffee.

Paul, having had enough experience with his step son's world to know that pissing off a god, even a temporarily, erm,  _inconvenienced_  one was a fate he did not need to meet. So with a slight tug on his shirt collar and a cough, he returned to his newspaper.

Hera-

"A-Go-ge" Estelle sputtered.

Paul chuckled, "Keep trying Estelle, you'll say your first word someday soon I can feel it.

Hera glanced back at the gurgling baby, saliva plastered smile on their face as they slammed a plastic rattle playfully into her oatmeal.

"Oh now that's just rude" Paul muttered, putting the paper down to stop her from making more of a mess.

Hera felt a slight tug on her lips as a smile tried to escape. It failed miserably but the effort was noticeable. She briefly thought back to her time with her children when they were young.

The growth of gods was never a consistent thing. Athena had burst from Zeus' head a full woman. She never bothered with the twins, they were  _bastards_ after all.  _Bastards_ she'd grown to tolerate but bastards all the same, the first of many sadly. And then there was Aries and Hephaestus, after thousands of years of marriage she'd only managed two children with her husband.

Aries spent his second day of his eternal life blowing up his temple and half the throne room. He spent his third extending the damage to half of Olympus. Zeus nearly threw him into Tartarus with his grandfather. As for Hephaestus….they didn't talk about what happened with Hephaestus' birth.

Hera starred long and hard at the giggly infant who fussed and whined as her father tried to clean off her chin and remove the tiny weapon from her breakfast. For some reason a frown grew upon Hera's face.

Estelle splashed some of her oatmeal onto Paul's jacket. "You're a messy little gremlin aren't you?" he muttered with a strained smile. Hera could have sworn she saw Estelle nod in agreement. Paul let out a chuckle that transitioned into a sigh as he put down the napkin and looked at his watch.

"No rest for the wicked it seems" He muttered, grabbing his coat.

"You're leaving?" Hera asked.

"School board thought it was a good idea to call an " _emergency"_ meeting the first day of winter break. Idiots." Paul shrugged and gave hera a curious look, "Don't suppose I can ask you to smite them for me can I?"

Hera looked at her left hand, then at her plate, and snapped her fingers. When the piece of plastic so rudley refused to transform into a baby peacock Hera sighed, "No."

With an awkward apologetic look at Hera, a kiss on his wife's cheek, and playful poke on Estelle's nose, Paul Blofis left the Jackson residence, leaving the three women to themselves.

"You look like you could use some of this" Sally said to her, passing her a cup of something steaming hot and dark brown.

"Coffee?" Hera asked.

"So you do have it on Olympus." Sally said, placing two plates of (...blue?) Pancakes on the table and sitting down in the chair across from her, an identical cup in her own hand.  _Wait how did she carry all that?_

"Hermes always seemed to have a cup with him" said Hera, "He must have downed a gallon of the stuff every morning."

"Sounds about right" Sally chuckled, taking a sip from her cup.

After a few moments of deliberation she drank some of her own "Coffee".

Taste hit her again, black and bitter, but strangely invigorating. Riding her train of curiosity, she took up her fork and knife and took a bite of the "pancake" (seriously why was it blue? She didn't have to be a mortal to tell that wasn't natural!). The warmth seemed to spread through her body not unlike the warmth of Ambrosia. " _Ok fine"_ she thought. " _Mortal food isn't terrible. There I said it erm, thought it. Happy Hermes?"_

That's when another thought hit her. "Where are Hermes and Zeus?"

Sally seemed to tense up slightly, "Both had left by the time I'd gotten up, no note, no nothing.

"Oh" was all Hera managed.  _They just….left her? Zeus just…..up and left while she was alone and concussed?_ Her mortal heart sank but she shook herself away from questioning him.  _No, him and Hermes must have gone ahead to camp._ She thought, _They wouldn't need me for that. Why would he need me for that? Why would….It didn't matter. Just trust him._

Sally must have noticed the look on her face and shifted the topic, "Regardless of what those two are doing I Iris-Called ahead to Camp to pick you up. Things seemed hectic and I got some weird interference, but the message got through, a half-blood should be by soon." She shook her head and took another sip of her coffee.

"If those two aren't back by then, (sigh) I swear if this is because I told Zeus to sleep on the couch last night-"

"Wait you what!?" Hera asked, closer to a fearful shout then she would have liked.

Sally raised her hands up as if she were dealing with a cornered animal about to jump at her, "There weren't enough beds and he was shouting up a storm and all around being an ass in my house. That gets you the couch no matter who you are." She relaxed herself and too a bite from her own breakfast and another sip of coffee, "He was upsetting you, had to put him in his place just a little."

Hera frowned, "Up...upsetting? Whatever could you mean?" She damn well knew what the woman was talking about, but she'd be damned to Hades before she'd acknowledge anything like her...moments in front of a mortal.

Sally gave her a quizzical look and sighed, "I'm pretty sure you know but I'm not going to pry. I just wasn't going to let someone come into  _my_  house asking for help, start yelling, and not give em a reprimand." She smiled and took another sip, "I mean Percy's saved the world twice and you don't see him strutting about like he owns the place."

Hera was taken aback by her words, but shook her head and kept her frown, "Zeus can be petty" she muttered, jabbing her fork into her breakfast, "He's not going to forget this, he  _never forgets_ stuff like this."

Sally shrugged, "Something tells me being turned into a high schooler is a bit higher on his list of worries than a lower middle class house wife."

"His  _priorities_ would surprise you." Hera said darkly, cutting her pancake so forcefully she scratched the plate. The sound made her jump and drop her silverware.

Sally eyed her suspiciously.  _Don't judge me human_  Hera thought. She spared a glance at Estelle who stared back.  _You too you little bundle of drool._

"No, I don't think they would" Sally reasoned.

An awkward silence permeated the room as the two pecked at their breakfasts, broken only by Estelle's occasional chipper gurgles and coos.

"Did you know Paul isn't my first husband?" Sally finally said.

Hera raised an eyebrow but didn't respond verbally. Sally took that as a go ahead to continue.

"My first husband's name was Gabe. He might've had two eyes, normal teeth, no wings, and didn't crawl out of a crack in the ground, that I know of, but he sure as hell was a monster." She scowled. Hera looked down and continued eating.

"Beer cans coating the carpet, money for gambling, there were even a few times he'd hit me." Hera's hand faltered slightly and her knife dragged across the plate with a loud scrape, she refused to look up.

"Want to know why I did it?"

"Will you stop talking if I ask?" She said with a faint snarl.

After a brief pause Sally continued, "I did it for Percy."

Well that caught Hera's attention.

"Gabe's scent helped block out Percy's, kept him alive when he might have died. Probably saved his life as many times as all the sword play Chiron taught him."

Estelle cooed as she grabbed a handful of oatmeal and tried to swallow it whole. Most of it fell out of her weak grip and dribbled all over her face. Sally's scowl vanished and in its place rose a smile warm and gentle. She cleaned Estelle's face with a napkin, "And you know what? I don't regret it, not entirely. Funny things moms do for their kids. Funny things."

Estelle squirmed and giggled under her mother's touch. The sight stirred something in Hera, something a thousand simultaneous versions of her godly self could have easily ignored, but a single, human, one found difficult.

It couldn't help but conjure up a few shadows of memories millenia past that felt worryingly foggy in her new body. The few and far between moments of Aries' childhood when he didn't brake everything in sight and would cuddle up against her on harsh winter days. That time the scamp had pissed off one two many monsters for his size and needed old mommy Hera to break out her staff she hadn't wielded since the Titan War.

_Hephaestus wrapped in golden cloth before she saw his body. Before she screamed. Before she snapped._

Hera shook her head, violently slamming shut the vault she'd allowed to crack open. She resumed an even harsher scowl then before.

If Sally noticed she didn't show it. "But now he's out and Paul is in. And I've never been happier. Sometimes I wonder how I did it for the better part of ten years, if I could have done it any longer, if-"

"I thought you said you wouldn't pry" Hera grumbbled.

Sally's eyes narrowed, "And what about that was prying to you?"

Hera's eyes widened and her hands tightened into white knuckled fists.

"I should go prepare for my escort. Thank you for breakfast, it was passable" she said with an icy tone. Her pancakes half finished and her stomach whining at being interrupted, she stood up and began storming down the halfway to the guest room.

Sally didn't try to stop her, but she almost certainly saw Hera's hands shaking.

She slammed the door behind her, not finding it in herself to care if the loud noise startled the baby, right now all she cared about was getting out of sight. She locked the door and-

"Eventful breakfast?"

Hera nearly jumped out of her skin.

Sitting cross legged on her bed beneath a forced open window was a teenage boy with jet black hair and a grey hoodie. Lazily twirled in his left hand was a curved dagger of Celestial Bronze in tied to the end of a thick rope. In his right, a phone with a strange radar on it's screen. He had a shit eating grin on his face that made Hera squirm.

"Did you not hear me?" He asked with a hurt tone, "Then I'll ask again." He stopped twirling his dagger, "Names' Varrian. Eventful breakfast?"

Hera swallowed, "Don't suppose you're my ride?" She asked, hand slowly reaching for the doorknob.

"In some manner of speaking, yes." Before she even blink, his dagger slammed into the wood right beside her head.

Then something weird happened.

The dagger spun in place and seemed to launch itself to the side all on it's own and burrow partway into the floor at her feet. It did so again and again, faster than her eyes could track, until it finally ricocheted back into the boy's hand. With a jerk he pulled the ropes taunt and Hera found herself bound tightly and unable to move. "One down, two to go." He said, pulling on his dagger again, forcing her to her knees.

Hit number five: The floor.

"Sally!" She cried.

Plates crashed to the ground in the kitchen in large numbers, drowning her out.

Confused she looked back at the boy. One of his hands were raised in the direction of the kitchen, silver and gold strands of mist trailing off his fingers.

"What the-" Sally's exasperation was cut off by the sound of a bookcase toppling to the ground and more plates smashing alongside it.

 _Those are Eris' powers._ She thought.  _A child of strife brings chaos and calamity._

He looked down at her, no doubt seeing the fear in her eyes as he rolled his. "Oh don't you look at me like that. What? I didn't drop it on her if that's what you're worried about. I may be a bastard but I'm not, y'know, a  _bastard_. He snapped his fingers and another plate smashed to the ground outside.

"Oh for fucks sake" They heard.

The boy snickered, "Ok, maybe I am." He stepped forward and kneeled down to her, "but hey-"

Hera tried to push herself off the ground and lunge at him. This earned her a swift elbow to the back of the head, flaring the remnants of her concussion. She whimpered as he pinned her head to the ground.

"-There are worse bastards in this world."

He spat in her face and planted a knee on the back of her head. He pulled the rope tight once more for good measure. Hera wasn't sure if she was just hearing things or not, but she could have sworn she heard his knife hum.

"For example" he continued as he dropped his backpack on the floor and began rummaging for something.

"I once heard of this bastard, Hercules I believe? Think you know him."

He smiled as he found what he was looking for. A syringe of Celestial Bronze topped with a tip of Stygian Iron. Heras blood went cold.

"Now you see he was the REAL Bastard, I mean, can you believe it? He was born to a woman when the father was already married!"

He fiddled with the syringe a bit, testing to make sure it worked.

"The nerve of the kid."

Hera tried to struggled out from under him but failed, her mortal limbs too weak to budge the rope.

"Got what he deserved though didn't he? Life of hell? That's the common denominator for us isn't it? Us bastards I mean?" The boy seemed lost in his reflection in the cold underworld metal, lost in thought. That was until his attention snapped back to her, anger in his eyes as he grabbed the back of her head.

"Now I failed my mythology class a few times back in middle school, dreadfully boring subject that, slept straight through it all; but I think I remember something about how your pa Kronos ate the lot of you, something about how you'd kill him if he didn't. Quite the shitty parent tat, not giving a shit about their kids treating them like bastards even when he decided to make them…..Come on don't fight me."

He yanked her head to the side and exposed her pale white neck. She flailed and thrashed this way and that, trying desperately to shake him off.

"Zeus help me" she called out, voice cracking. The boy slammed he head into the floor to shut her up.

"Hera? Did you say something?" Sally said from down the hall.

Varrian snapped his fingers on the other hand. Silver and gold light, another plate crashed to the floor.

"Mother of-" Sally grumbled as she ran to pick it up.

Varrian sighed, "Oh I doubt anyone's saving you little queen, no golden boy to sacrifice his life and slay the giant this time. Now where was I?"

He tapped the top of the syringe a few times and held it up to the light. It was empty. Then he leaned down and began to angle. Hera held in a terrified sob.

"Gotta find the artery….Oh yeah now I remember: Bastards, my favorite topic. You know bastards are quite the force. You bastards took down your dad. Your bastards  _almost_  took you down, if it weren't for your other bastards that stopped them. Ah, there it is."

"You going anywhere with this?" Hera gritted out, trying to sound brave. She didn't know what in Hades he was doing, but she did not want to find out.

Varrian's cocky smile turned into a frown."You know, I honestly forgot where I was going with that. Guess I just need to rant. You're a good listener when you're not being a bitch you know."

She tried to kick him, it didn't work.

"Fighter to. Well, let's just get this over with."

He touched the syringe to her skin, she could feel the small chunk of the cursed metal tugging at her mortal soul. Varrian spoke again, a genuine sincerity to his voice, "From one bastard to a bastard bastard killer, here's to hoping you don't die. Now one, two-"

_Ring-ring._

"Shit."

He dropped the syringe and fumbled to answer his phone, "J. what the hell are you call-what?" His expression dropped and he turned away from Hera.

"What do you mean failure? What happened? What, wait,  _poison?"_

He jumped off of Hera as if he'd forgotten she was there. He rung and hand through his hair, "Are you ok? Good. Just get back to base ASAP and get that checked out. I'll finish u-OH SHIT!"

Hera looked up just in time to see it. She smelled ozone. Varrian hadn't closed the window he came in through, that was a mistake he was now regretting. Because now hanging half through it into the room, sweat pouring down his face and electricity flowing through his hair and hands. Jason Grace, her bastard step son, had come to save her a second time.

There was a flash of light and the sixth thing to hit Hera that morning came snapping into view. A bolt of lightning.

_Joy._

The boly technically didn't hit her, at least not directly. It arced to the right and slammed directly into Varrian's phone.

"FUCK." He screamed, dropping it just in time. The stray electricity caused all the lights in the room to burst. Hera tasted copper and her hair stood up on ends, no doubt making her look infinitely worse than before.

Jason hurled himself into the room and landed, somewhat painful looking, onto the floor. He he clumsily floated himself a foot in the air. It didn't take a god of medicine to tell that the bastard was badly injured with a broken leg and probably a few fractures. Even so Jason raised his hand and sparks began to gather.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK" Varrian shouted, clutching his right hand, blistering from the burn. He looked up just in time to jump to the side. Hera herself rolled as far to the left as she could in her restraints.

The bolt hit the rope connecting her and him and torn it in two. Her restraints went slack and she scrambled to her feet, grabbing madly at the syringe he'd dropped and brandishing it like a knife.

Varrian steady-ed himself and analyzed the situation. He didn't like it. An injured bastard of Jupiter was a force to be reckoned with, and in such a tight space, a truly lethal opponent. His eyes danced to the syringe she held. He took an anxious step back.

"Run or fall." Jason growled through gritted teeth. Even when beaten and bruised he was a Roman, that much Hera would admit.

"Drama queen" Varrian muttered before he grabbed his backpack with his good hand and dashed out the bedroom door.

A few moments of quiet passed before Jason, in all his bastard glory, dropped to the ground and heaved up his lunch. Hera, doing about the same, dropped to her knees and started panting, the syringe clutched firmly in her white knuckles.

Sally broke the silence by barging into the room, a crying Estelle in her arms. "Who the FUCK was that?" She yelled.

Jason pulled himself to his knees and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "We need to get to camp."

* * *

"Here, hold her while I get the ice."

As Hera fell tiredly into Paul's arm chair Sally pushed Estelle into her arms and scurried off to grab an ice pack from the freezer.

"But I-"

"She doesn't bite, just hold her, it's fine." She called back as she carefully stepped around the ruins of her kitchen.

Hera looked anxiously down at the mortal child that had been thrust upon her. The child, having calmed down considerably fast from the chaos less than a minute ago, started back up at her with deep curious hazel eyes.

"Uh, hi?"

Estelle grabbed a fist full of her hair and tugged.

"Urgh"

Estelle giggled.

"Stop it, urgh."

She giggled some more, even tried to replicate her annoyed " _urgh."_

"Stupid baby, Jason how do I make him act like you when you were a his size."

Jason, who Hera and Sally had lain across the sofa mere moments ago, looked up at her with an annoyed and pained glare, "I'm, (sigh) not gonna answer that." He groaned, his leg flaring up.

Hera huffed.  _How rude._

Sally quickly returned with his ice pack and applied it to where he was swelling. "Your ride to camp should be here any minute." Se said, worry and anxiety lacing her voice.

"Then you can-"

The doorbell rang everyone in the room froze...save for Estelle who continued to yank on Hera's hair.

"Oh  _Honey_  I'm HOOOOME" came Hermes' strained voice.

Sally hesitantly opened the door a crack and Hera's step son spilled out into the main room, half carrying Jason's girlfriend and daughter of Aphrodite on one side and her husband on the other.

Hera jumped up with a start. He was bleeding,  _red_  blood. She knew they had been made mortal, but seeing so  _much_ of that status' common marker made her sick to her stomach.

She quickly ran to Sally and handed her back Estelle, the curious and strangely silent baby needing to be coaxed into letting go of her hair. Then turned her attention to her family.

"What happened?"

Hermes was panting as he set Piper down next to Jason, the two immediately finding each other's hands and holding tight while muttering something about a ruined date. "Oh you know" he said. "About the same as whatever happened here" he said, glancing at the kitchen. "Good job Jason" he said, giving his nephew a thumbs up. The roman returned it half heartedly.

"I need to sit down" grumbled Zeus who, by the looks of it, had suffered a concussion like she had the day before.

Instincts Hera had honed, or atleast  _claimed_ she had honed over millennia of being a mother wife took over and she immediately took her husband from Hermes and guided him over to paul's chair. Hermes muttered something about " _doing all the work"_  under his breath but didn't protest any farther.

"There, there, here we go" Hera said comfortingly as she eased him down onto the chair.

Zeus groaned in discomfort as he clutched his head. His eyes locked onto Jason's leg.

"Ice pack" he demanded.

Jason gave him a look bordering almost on rebellion.

"Ice pack" he said with more force.

Jason sighed in frustration and gracelessly tossed the pack to his father. Piper gave the god a look of contempt before turning her attention back to her boyfriend.

Zeus clumsily caught the pack and Hera helped him slowly apply it to his head.

"There we go, doesn't that feel better?" Hera asked.

"A bit. Zeus grumbled."

"Hey, honey."

"Yes"

Hera went to speak but found that her words seemed to catch in her throat. Zeus sat there, trying to look as regal as possible with blood and an ice pack covering half his face. She had something she needed to say. She tried again and again but each time the words died in her throat.

"If you have to say something just spit it out" he said, loud enough to draw back the attention of the entire room.

Hera gulped, a twisting ball of anxiety pooled in her stomach that made her regret eating those blue pancakes, sipping that delicious coffee, and devouring that incredible bacon.

The hair on the back of her neck seemed to stand on end, as if her body itself was desperately trying to reach back to her garden.

"I...uh…..I was wondering why…..uh"

"Spit it out!"  
"Why did you leave without me?"

Zeus scowled. "What?"

Hera absently fiddled with her wedding ring, "It's just that we...we promised we'd fight our fights together on that day and-"

"Oh for the love of…" Zeus sighed and, for the first time since they had been turned mortal, Hera noticed Zeus wasn't wearing his wedding ring. She quickly lowered the hand with hers. "Why does everything have to be about  _that day_ with you" he moaned.

"It's just that."

"I'm feeling terrible, just give me some room already!" He pushed her away from him forcefully. She lost her balance and fell to the floor, hitting her head against it.

The room sat in a stunned silence. Hera collected herself off the ground and stood up shakily.

"Alright then, of course dear."

She turned to those present.

Jason and Piper's eyes seemed to dart back and forth between her and Zeus. Hermes seemed very interested in the carpet all of a sudden. Sally's expression seemed to be twisted in a look of pure anger. Estelle continued to look at her with those damned curious eyes.

"I'll be outside waiting for the ride." She made for the door.

Hermes shuffled forward, "Wait it's dangerous to-"

Hera ignored him and slammed the door behind her. She took nine steps before her legs gave out. She let herself fall against the wall and slowly slid down it's surface. She curled her knees up to her chest and spoke her mantra.

_Breathe, just breathe._

_You are a god._

_You are a queen._

_You are His queen._

_You must be better._

_Things will be better._

_Just don't let that happen again._

_Just don't piss him off again._

… _...Just don't._

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The seventh and final thing to hit Hera that morning: Her husband Zeus.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Hera, that's not healthy, not one bit.  
> Sorry again about the delay, I'll try to be quicker going forward. Anyways....that happened. This chapter was my first real dive into any of the Olympians' troubles, and who better to start with than the Queen of the Gods herself? Hera is a goddess I'm surprised doesn't get explored more often in the books or in the fandom. I mean she is the only one who actively hates her siblings' and children's demi-god kids, aka virtually the entire main cast, yet we don't explore it much beyond "Yep that's who she is." We almost got there in Lost Hero but alas here we are. I hope to explore her and her troubles in the world's most dysfunctional family as we move on.  
> Now next chapter we shift back to our newly ADHD ridden goddess of knowledge and her two uncles of varying maturity as they make for the same destination as Hera.
> 
> See you soon in Chapter 9: Snakes on a Train


	9. Snakes on a Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athena vs. the forces of shenanigans and inadequacy

As the god of wealth, Hades’ disappointment was immeasurable and his day was ruined when he had to start pinching pennies just to get to safety.

In hindsight, he should have really put more mortal money in his hideouts. Sure him and his two dependents (because really with his niece looking to be constantly on the verge of a panic attack and his brother’s….general personality, he was the brains of this operation) they had a whole ornate cookie-jar’s worth of Drachma to support them. (Of course Poseidon had to drop it.) But Drachma didn’t buy them shit in the mortal world. 

“Come-on, come-on, come-on” Hades muttered “Fourth time's the charm.”

“Isn’t the saying third-”

“Shut up and keep the Hose running water boy” he snapped.

Poseidon sighed and turned the hose back on.

Hades snapped his fingers “Coin me.”

Athena rolled her eyes and passed him a Drachma.

He turned the useless currency over in his hands and groaned.

_ If anyone had told me the last night i’d be spending his morning hunched out back behind _ , he shot a scowling glance at the rusty sign above him,  _ Burt’s Big Wash. Ugh. Using a hose to try and call his son for a lift, he’d have tossed them into the pits of Tartarus.  _

_ But now….well….fuck. _

He took a deep breath, waited for a rainbow to form, then proceeded to yell at it.

“Alright listen up Iris!” He shouted, “I am going to PAY you, then you are going to do your JOB. Alright? Alright let’s go.” And with an acidic prayer to Iris and any other minor god who might’ve been listening for their amusement, Hades tossed the coin into the Rainbow.

“Nico Di Angelo.”

The coin disappeared into wherever the Hades ( _ Why do I say that?)  _ those things go and a shimmering yellow square appeared before them. It’s surface rippled and shifted as an image began to emerge as the connection was being established.

_ Come on, Come on, Come on, Come on, Come on, Come on, Come on, Come on, THERE- _

After two failed attempts the image finally came in. Hades’ son, one Nico Di Angelo, was apparently sitting outside his cabin playing a game of Checkers with…..Hades’ attention darted quickly to the kid sitting across from his son, a young blonde girl, no older than eleven, wearing a turtleneck sweater three sizes too big and hugging what looked like a Harp. _One of Apollo’s kids?_ _You know what good on him for_ _making new friends._

“What the-who is-”

“AH HA! Son, listen to me. This is very important.”

“Son?” Nico leaned in closer to get a better look then his eyes went wide, “Wait, Dad? What's going on? Olympus has gone radio silent since last night and-” he tilted his head in confusion, “Why do you look like a slightly older me?” He asked. 

The little girl he assumed was a daughter of Apollo pulled her too large turtle neck up over her face to just below her eyes and scooted back in her chair out of view.  _ Oddly bashful for one though.  _

_ Bah that’s not important.  _

“Long story short I think we were poisoned and robbed of our immortality.”

That certainly caught his son’s attention as he jumped straight out of his seat.

“Where are you?”

“Boston, we tried to get a train ticket but didn’t have any money. Can you-”

“I said where are you?” 

The image flickered.

_ No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No- _

“Boston, we’re in Boston!”

“Hello?”

“Don’t you dare-”

The image died.

“MOTHER OF-”

“Hey!” 

Storming out of the Carwash came a heavy set man in a stained undershirt and shorts that screamed white trash. “You kids need to pay for that!”

Hades sighed, “Is that our elusive Burt?” He said deadpanned.

“Get off my block you free loaders or face m’Glock!”

“Is he pulling out a gun?” Athena asked.

“It would appear so.”

Poseidon grabbed them both by the shoulders, “LET’S BOOGIE GANG” He yelled as the three proceeded to  _ “boogie” _ out of harm's way.

“What now?” Athena asked, looking over her shoulder to see if Burt was still on their tail.

Poseidon looked at the Drachma in his hands, “Try buying tickets again?”

Hades sighed, “Fine, it can’t go worse than it did last time.”

* * *

 

“I will give you twelve Drachma! That’s 400% the actual price!”

“Sir that is a bottle cap.”

“Ok. Ok. Ok. How about FIFTEEN Drachma?”

“Sir I’m calling security.”

“NOT IF I CALL SECURITY FIRST!”

“SIR WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?”

“HADES LET’S JUST GO.” 

Athena grabbed her struggling uncle by the scruff of his collar and dragged him away from the ticket stand. Poseidon guiltily waved goodbye to the ticket master.

 

* * *

 

“I am the god of wealth.” Hades muttered, sliding dejectedly down the wall of the subways tunnel. He turned the small stack of Drachma over in his hands and let them fall through his fingers, barely noticeable tails of Mist trailed behind it. If he squinted he could see what the clouded eyes of mortals saw. Coca-cola bottle caps.

“And Hecate taketh it all away.” 

Poseidon gave his brother a half-hearted pat on the shoulder. Athena sighed and slid down next to him, messaging her temples as to nurse a budding headache.

“Hey guys don’t give up” Poseidon said.

“I’m not” she groaned out, “I just need a minute, everything here is just so-”

The train from Boston to New York pulled into station with a thundering boom.

Athena flinched, “Loud” she muttered.

Poseidon bit his lower lip in concentration, they only had a few minutes before the train left and the next one wouldn’t be coming for a few hours. And if he’d learned anything from looking over his son’s adventures that meant  _ something  _ would inevitably try to kill them by then. 

“MOMMY I LOST MY BALLOON!”

The trio’s attention was diverted by the voice to the sight of a single mom and her six year old who was currently on the verge of a meltdown.

“It flew out of my hand when we went down the stairs!”

The mother, clearly having a less than great morning, answered through gritted teeth, “I’ll get you a new one later, but now we have to go.”

“But Moooooom”

“Ugh, why are kids so loud?” Athena groaned.

Poseidon’s eyes darted between the kid, the mom, and the train. The door to the nearest train car was open but being watched by a worker collecting tickets. An idea popped into his head and he looked to Hades.

His older brother scowled, “What’s with the shit eating grin?” Poseidon gestured to the points of interest and it only took a moment for the same idea to pop into his head. He quickly got an identical grin.

“You two are scaring me” Athena muttered.

Hades swept up his fallen Drachma and jumped to his feet, “You handle the mother, I’ll handle the kid.”

They nodded and made their move.

“Wait what just happened?” Athena asked, but the two hand already ran off.

“Did….did they just make a plan without me?”

She peeked her head around the wall to watch the now ensuing fuckery her uncles found themselves up to.

Poseidon came up behind the woman and tapped her on the shoulder, “Hello There” he said with a smile.

“Oh, hello.” She replied, confused and still a little frustrated.

When she turned around Hades immediately kneeled down beside the kid and began quietly taking to him, showing him the Drachma turned bottle caps. 

_ What are you two up to?  _ She thought.

“If you could spare a moment of your time.”

“Actually I can’t, we should be going.”

“No, wait please it’s my sister, she has…..Ass Cancer.”

_…...What?_ Athena thought, giving herself a mental facepalm.

Hades stopped what he was doing and gave Poseidon the biggest,  _ “Are you fucking kidding me” _ look ever then returned to his discussion with the kid, now giving him a few bottle caps and pointing furiously in a random direction.

“Your sister has…..Ass Cancer?” the mother asked.

“Yes that is what we’re going with.”

“What?”

“What?”

Hades seemed to finish his conversation ruffled the kid’s hair with a smile, then dashed back to their hiding place.

The mother sighed,  “I’m sorry what is it that you-”

“Your kid’s gone.”

“WHAT?”

She turned around to see her child screaming bloody murder and running at top speed down the train platform.

“NO JONNY, NO!” She yelled ass she bolted after him.

“Now” Hades hissed and grabbed Athena by the wrist and ran.

_ What did- _

She noticed the train attendant that was watching the nearest train entrance took off after the mother to try and help and catch her kid.

_ Oh you clever bastards. _

Poseidon joined up with them as they scrambled aboard the train.

“Was that evil?” Poseidon asked, seeming oddly reflective.

Hades shrugged, “I prefer the term smart.”

Poseidon shrugged and the trio of gods ducked into the nearest car.

 

* * *

 

Athena had hoped the inside of the train would be at least somewhat quieter than the platform. That hope had been a foolish one. From the second they stepped into the car her eardrums were assailed by the sounds of crying children, mortals squabbling about where to sit, and...was that country music they were playing over the PA system?

“I need to sit down” she groaned, the triple threat already getting to her.

“And I need to use the bathroom” Hades said, his tone seeming disgusted at himself.

“Alright, go” Poseidon said, then turned to the chaos of sea of mortals before him with a sigh, “I’ll get us seat.” He gently grabbed Athena by the arm, “You ready?”

“Sure” Athena muttered, eyes closed as she rubbed her right temple.

Finding a seat was as annoying as Athena had expected. Several times their refuge was stolen from them at the last second and Poseidon threatened to drown the offender and crush them between Charybdis and Scylla. The third time he tried that he nearly punched the clearly stoned teenager when they asked if that was what he named his biceps.

Eventually a woman in her twenties noticed Athena’s state and gave up her seat. Another dent upon her pride it might have been but she felt too drained to protest. Poseidon was not so lucky, and when the train began to move he resigned himself to standing and holding onto the standing pole besides her.

The two settled into a awkward silence for a few minutes before Poseidon broke the ice, “I hope Percy and Annabeth are ok.” He said offhandedly.

“Hm? Why do you say that?”

“I mean think about it”, Poseidon muttered, leaning in closer so they weren’t overheard, “Whoever the bastards that did this to us are, I doubt they’re gonna leave our kids alone for very long.” He bit his lip, “For all we know they could be rolling out to camp right now, ready to attack.”

“Shit, you’ve got a point” she hissed. Why hadn’t that thought occurred to her? Of course their children were in danger as well.  _ Wait,  _ she thought. 

_ If the camps could be attacked are they even safe for them?  An another thing, if going to the camps was such an obvious move for them to make, what if these...people? Monsters? Hell maybe even Titans be expecting them to make there way there? What if they are wandering into a trap? _

She looked over her shoulder at the city of Boston as it blurred and raced out of view behind them. In seconds they were underground and speeding onwards towards new York. 

_ Shit.  _ She thought, mentally kicking herself.  _ Well we’re committed now, dammit why didn’t I think ahead and see this coming? That’s my JOB. Stupid, stupid, stupid- _

“Hey, I know that look,  you'd do best to ditch it quick before it sticks.” She looked up at Poseidon, “What?”

He shrugged and gestured in her general direction. “Y’know, that look. Eyes staring at the air like you’re  trying to see into the future, teeth grit and lower lip over the top, forehead scrunched up i’d leave lines if you were mortal. Erm, well I guess  _ no-” _

“Just get to the point.” She spat, she did  _ not  _ need her least favorite uncle’s idiotic ramblings bothering her on top of her mountain of other worries.

“What I mean is I know that look, my siblings used to make fun of me for wearing it all the time during the first Titanomachy.

“ _ No plan survives first contact with the enemy Donny. _ ” He said in a shrill voice in a, let’s say  _ loving  _ parody of his younger sisters and her stepmom.

“ _ Stop scowling about it and just go already, it’ll work out if it’s meant to. _ ” he said, switching to a terrible Demeter impression. That one actually got Athena to chuckle.

Poseidon smiled, “ _ Bah enough planning, I've been winging this for years and i’ll keep winging it till I’m king dammit. _ ” He said in an impression of her father that was so eerily spot on she had to stifle a full and genuine laugh.

“What?” Athena asked, “Do you expect me to believe  _ you  _ were the brains of Olympus during the first war?”

“But of course!” Poseidon chuckled. “Who do you think was the tactician?”

“Hestia?”

“Nah, if she had her way she would have thrown a  _ it’s all better, we can be friends  _ tea party instead of copping dad to bits.”

“Hades?”

“You’d be surprised how reckless my brother was back then.”

“Hera?”

“Ok now you’re just insulting me. It was me dammit! I was the feared tactician of Olympus that routed Orthrys and sent daddy dearest to the Pits!”

“Through dumb luck?”

“Why you little-”

Athena smirked, Poseidon scowled, “Little old to be so cheeky don’t you think?”

Athena faked an offended gasp, “Uncle I’m only three thousand eight hundred, practically still a teenager.”

“You can say that again” he moaned.

Athena’s smirked faded as her thoughts returned.  

_ Right. _ She thought.

_ I am now quite literally a teenager. A teenager with no powers, no money, no plan, and no guarantee we’ll get off this blasted train without getting gutted.  _ She gulped and her headache began creeping back. Her eyes darted around the train car. It was so dark underground, the perfect vision of an Olympian had long left her and even with the artificial lights of the car she still had a hard time making out much of the faces of the other passengers.  _ What if one of them is a monster looking to kick us while we’re down? What if we start having trouble seeing through the Mist in these bodies? _

Poseidon cut off her train of thought with a clap on the shoulder. “But teasing aside you’re right, luck won the day more often than any of us would like to admit” he said, tone more dower than before. “Which is why I’m begrudged to say I’m glad you came along when you did. You’re definitely better at the whole tactics thing then I ever was and we wouldn’t have made it through the first Gigantomachy without you.”

_ Where in Hades is this coming from?  _ She thought. Was her uncle, the one she’d spent centuries living in quiet hostility with, actually complimenting her?

“Anyways what I’m getting at is this, you’re smart, you’re tactical, but just like I was back then you get too caught up in plans. Somethings you can’t plan for.”

Athena scowled. Yes, sitting on a dirty train to New York with her long standing rival next to her and her other uncle a car a way sitting on the shitter while nursing a terrible headache and the makings of a panic attack definitely fell outside her weekend plans.

“So maybe it’s best to take that bastard of a father of yours’ advice and try and wing it. I mean it worked for our children these past few years.”

“Worked is putting it a bit nicely.”

“Why yes I am nice.”

“Athena groaned while Poseidon chuckled. “You’re right though” she admitted, “I guess for now our plan has to be no plan at all.”

“Yeah there’s the spirit, I can practically hear ol’ Zeus laughing with pride.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “Though I wouldn’t get too into the habit of mimicking him.”

“Trust me uncle” Athena nodded grimly, “I know.”

Poseidon smiled then let the two fall into a renewed silence, this one far more amicable than the previous.

Athena took a deep breath. The air of the old train car felt stale and unpleasant but nevertheless she felt her headache begin to subside a bit.  _ Poseidon is right...for once.  _ She thought.  _ Just relax and take this one step at a ti- _

“Even if you’re smarter than me-” Poseidon started with a smirk, “I still should have won Athens”

Athena groaned, “Oh you are NOT bringing this up agai-”

“Tickets please.”

The two gods’ age old argument came to a halt as they both turned. Standing over them was a woman who looked to be in here early thirties in a dark blue conductor’s uniform. “Tickets. Please.” She repeated curtly.

_ Shit. _

The woman held out an open hand expectantly, her eyes hidden behind a pair of pitch black sunglasses masking her expression. The two exchanged glances of panic. 

_ Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Of course they’d check for tickets! Athena you thoughtless useless disappointing wate of- _ _   
_ “Stowaways then?” She asked condescending.

“Uhhh.”

“Come with me.” She grabbed the two by the wrists and began pulled them off through the car and onto the next.

_ Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. We can NOT afford to get arrested.! Being detained by a fucking train conductor is not a hit my pride can recover from! _

As they were pulled past the second car Athena had an idea born from a trick she’d seen demi-gods pull off on multiple occasions.  _ We might not have our main powers, but this is something all demigods can do, please work. _

“Wait ma’am. We do have tickets.”

The conductor turned around, a suspicious frown on her face. She held out her free hand, muttered a prayer to Hecate and a promise to hang out more like she had many times before and never delivered.  _ Mist give me tickets…..please? _

For one agonizing moment they stood there staring at her empty hands. A bead of sweat started to roll down her temple.  _ Gods that feels gross. _

Then slowly but surely the magical veil dividing the worlds spiraled around her arm and coalesced into two train tickets.

_ YES. _

Labeled Malcolm and Alana Jackson.

_ NO. _

Poseidon sighed in relief. The conductor had to do a double take as a look of confusion spread across her face. Athena confidently shoved her tickets forward. “See?”

_ Not useless. Definitely not useless! _

The conductor frowned, “Fakes.”

_ Wot? _

The conductor could see through the Mist.

“Quit playing games and just come with me.” She grabbed the pair by the wrists again and yanked. The illusion fizzled back into whisp and floated uselessly away as they were rushed further back through the train.

_ NO. NO. NO. _

Poseidon tried to whisper something reassuring to her but she tuned him out.

_ I failed.  _ Athena thought, a tears beginning to form.  _ That should have been simple. You are a God, you manipulate Mist just by existing. You can’t fail.  _

_ Failure is the mark of the weak.  _

An image flashed before her eyes; a tapestry woven from street corner silk by filth covered hands. A tapestry that caught the light and danced with it, made it brighter, made the whole world whole. Made her a failure.

_ The mark of the worthless.  _

Caught up in her own mental spiral, Athena failed to protest being practically thrown into the back-most car on the train with Poseidon. 

Poseidon stumbled out a few words in her place. “Ma’am please we can explain, we were robbed and we needed to get back home fast as we-”

“Silence welp.” The conductor slammed the door shut behind her and locked it tight.

“Ok.” Poseidon muttered. “That was a little excessive.” 

Snapping back into focus Athena’s eyes were drawn to the sides of the car. It was empty, save the three of them.  _ Wait that’s weird.  _

“Really?” She said deadpanned as she slowly turned to them. 

_ Hold on a second, she saw through the Mist.  _ Athena thought, dots rapidly connecting in her mind.

“I’m being excessive?” She hissed. “What an  _ interesssting  _ accusation boy.”

Wait……..she hissed………….she  _ hissed _ .

Athena’s blood ran cold.  _ No.  _

          “Do you know what I think is excessive?” She turned towards her, and even though those pitch black sunglass blocked them, Athena could practically feel every inch of her freezing into stone.

_ Oh Hades, Gaea, Fates and Chaos anything but her. _

Memories of last night’s dream flooded back. Everything clicking perfectly into place with a horrible stinging hiss.

_ Anything. _

“Punishing your priests with a face-”

“ATHENA HEAD DOWN!” Poseidon, having pieced it together a second after she did leapt to her side pulled her head towards the floor.

“-Like this.”

She didn’t see it but she heard it. The hissing, that low haunting hissing of a nest of patient conniving predators. The trademark of her greatest enemy and one of the most infamous monsters in their mythos.

“Oh dear” her voice spoke, true venom seeping into her words. “Did I frighten you?”

Athena’s eyes were shut tight but she could hear among the hissing the sound of her sunglasses falling discarded on the floor. Her freed gaze bored into her skin, it’s cursed magnetism vying for her gaze.

“Did I...disturb you?”

She stepped closer, the hissing only growing louder. If Athena wasn’t so terrified she could have sworn she heard Poseidon let out a whimper.

She put a cool smooth finger beneath Athena’s chin and and forced her chin upwards, leaving only the thin skin of her eyelids between herself and the end.

“Then I guess it’s working isn’t it?”

Through the hissing, Athena could practically hear Medusa smirking.

“Little Annie?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Athena, girl, don't stress. Actually there is a vengeful snake demon out for your blood so do.  
> But in lighter news DING DONG THE FINALS ARE DEAD. DING DONG THE FINALS ARE DEAD. FINALLLLLY. It was getting frustrating not getting the time to sit down and write and even more frustrating getting back into things when it ended, not to mention I was jumping back in with probably the hardest plot line for me to write personally.   
> But anyways thank you all for sticking this hiatus out with me. I promise the next chapter will be up much quicker and you won't have to deal with anything close to that for a LOOOONG time. So get ready for Chapter 10 (Yay Double Digits!) In Her Grasp. Will the dysfunctional duo get out of this mess? Is Hades enjoying his first public bathroom experience? And hey, what has Aphrodite and gang been up to these past three chapters? Read and find out!  
> Oh also leave a Kudos and a review if you can think of something to say. I can't over state just how MUCH a shot in the arm those are during a slump. Thanks again and see you around!


	10. Wounds and Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades gets his ass whopped, Aphrodite starts to spiral, and Athena gets a cruel reminder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, been sick and had a comical amount of trouble writing Hades' scene. Hope it was worth the wait!

Athens was perfect. 

Athena laid back on the cool ground, divine skin soaking up old Helios’ light as the sun chariot passed it’s midday stride. The goddess of knowledge look on and enjoyed her work. Or rather, the work of her children. The same thing really.

A city after Olympus’ own heart, Athens sprawled over the central hills and valleys of Attica, a marvel unlike any in the mortal world. White pillars dotted the uneven landscape, towering high as if to hold up the heavens themselves, all leading up towards the Acropolis.

Oh the Acropolis. She had to admit, sometimes mortals truly impressed her with what they could do with such feeble brains and clumsy hands. The Acropolis stood strong and proud, a community at the heart of the city where all it’s denizens could mingle and bask in the beauty of her temple, the Parthenon, and the greatest statue ever molded by hands mortal or divine, the Athena Pathenos. The bronze sentinel, freshly blessed by the goddess herself to protect the children of the gods, stood vigilante over the city.

Athena smiled,  _ Greatest city in all the realm _ she thought,  _ and all it took was to grow a dumb tree. _

She raised her finger lazily into the air and a branch from the nearest olive tree, of of a hundred in her garden here in Athens, grew magically towards her, a single perfect olive presented to her like a diamond ring from a long time lover.  _ Oh perish that thought! You sounded like Aphrodite or Hera there for a minute.  _ She thought as she popped the jewel like fruit into her mouth, letting the subtle flavor dance across her tongue.

“Perhaps dumb is too harsh a word for you.” She mused allowed, as she often did within the sanctity that isolation provided.

As if in reaction to the half compliment, the branch popped out a second jewel, which the goddess ate with glee.  _ Eating, ha, such a base and mortal form of joy, mustn't make a habit of it if I can help it. _

She stroked the branch like she would a pet, more olives springing up as her fingers drew across its surface, “After all you did best Poseidon for me, though being a smarter choice than anything my uncle could dream up is not a high bar to strive for.”

Thunder rolled lowly over the horizon and a cold wind billowed through Athens below and rustled the leaves of her garden.

“Really?” Athena scowled. 

But  _ really  _ it was it seemed. A hurricane began to form from thin air over the Mediterranean. “Ugh” she groaned. “Can’t take a joke  _ or  _ a loss can you uncle?” 

She sat up and gazed a moment at the sky, if her calculations were right,  _ Which they were,  _ It was a category three and be on the city in less than a day. Child’s play. With a blink Athena sent four,  _ nah three will be enough,  _ three versions of herself into the city to inform its officials of her simple twenty six step plan to protect the city and its people flawlessly. Happily she found that she didn’t need to inform her children, who had already independently devised steps one through twenty-two before she could get to them, and were well on their way to implementation.

_ Some of my best inventions they are.  _ She thought smuggly.

“Don’t pick fights you’ve already lost Uncle” She called out joyfully, an annoyed rumble was her response. 

She sighed with contentment, knowing her creation below her was too well designed, too perfect to fall at the feet of such a base god and his cumbersome powers. In fact, feeling in a particularly good mood that afternoon, The young goddess returned to her place beneath the sun amongst the olive trees and white lilies and closed her eyes for a few moment’s peace.

_ Crunch. _

A few moments indeed.

“Who goes there?” She spoke, eyes still closed. Free of malice as it was her voice still shook the dirt and rattle trees. Leaves fluttered down in the wind and she heard a startled feminine “Eeep” in response.

“Stupid girl” She muttered, lifting her back off the ground and turning to look at her intruder.

“Explain why-”

What happened next was something that, after the fact, Athena couldn’t quite explain in any degree of rationality. Her heart, metaphorically speaking of course,  _ skipped  _ a beat. Standing in her garden, her  _ sacred  _ garden, was a beautiful young woman appearing to be in her twentieth year. Hair golden with tips of amber red and held firmly in place with the bronze braid of a snake, skin unblemished and with the wispy echos of a tan, all structured around eyes a warm and welcoming chestnut brown despite their obvious apprehension. Her eyes shimmered with the soft pink of coral. 

Clearly the sudden silence terrified the fragile thing and she dropped to her knees, “I-I’m sorry to disturb you milady, it was foolish of me to enter, i-if you’d spa-spa-spare me I shall leave a-at once.”

“No it is fine, you may stay.” Her brain finally working again after it’s split second power outage, Athena  _ elegantly  _ scrambled to her feet and crossed her arms behind her back. “Now stand and state your business, no stuttering.” For some reason she found the harsh tone that accompanied her usual demands hard to summon.

The woman tentatively rose to her feet hands cupped in front of her waist and head down.

“And look me in the eyes.”

She gulped and made eye contact. That weird feeling jerked inside Athena again but this time she was prepared and it died quickly and quietly.

As it should.

“Speak.”

“H-hello milady Athena, goddess of knowledge, wisdom, and patron of this grand-”

“Get to the point.”

“R-right” she squeaked, blushing. “I wish to join your temple as one of your priestesses.”

“There are dozens of priests and priestesses around the city you could of asked. Why did you come to my garden to ask me directly? Do you have a death wish? Or do you simply view yourself to be so  _ important  _ that you need me to confirm you directly?”

The woman visibly shrunk back, “T-they rejected me, I needed to come talk to you directly!”

Athena raised an eyebrow, “And why would they do that? Are you...impure?” For some reason asking that question made Athena’s ichor boil, if only for a moment.

She shook her head, “No ma’am, it was because of...of my heritage.”

“Heritage?” She sighed, “Alright which of my family members child are you? Aphrodite?” 

_ That must explain how divine she looks _ …… _ ……………………………………...wait. _

The girl frowned, “No, no, though that’s not the first time someone’s guessed that, my parents are Phorcys and Keto.”

Athena frowned in turn, she’d heard about this, “Sea gods, from the time of the titans. I take it that makes you-”

“Medusa, yes, sister of the Gorgons and the mortal maiden of the sea.” Medusa blushed and broke eye contact, “N-Not that I mean to grand stand or anything.”

Athena starred at the woman a moment longer.  _ A mortal daughter of two sea gods just so happens to want to join  my Priesthood.  _  Her frown deepened.  _ Not likely. _

“Did Poseidon send you?” She asked.

Medusa’s eyes went wide, “What?”

“Poseidon, he has it out for me, as that hurricane on the horizon clearly shows. Did he send you to screw with me or my clergy? If he did and you admit it now I will let you walk away unharmed.”

“No! No! That’s not it at all! Not even close!” She said, or rather panically yelled. Medusa’s face went pale white, causing the slightest pang of sadness to spawn in Athena’s chest. 

_ Alright then. _

“If not then why choose my tempe? A woman of your…” Athena struggled to find the right words, something, she noted, that rarely ever happened. “Conventional beauty-”

“Would be right at home in Aphrodite’s clergy?” Medusa finished, unable to keep the slightest drop of venom from her words. She flinched when she realized she forgot herself in front of the goddess. But when Athena failed to vaporize her for her indescriestion she continued.

“I have been told many a time by many a people that my looks place me in Aphrodite’s realm, or that my heritage bounds me to Poseidon’s. But I don’t care about either!” She spoke with passion now, meekness leaving her with every word. “I couldn’t care less if my parents were gods or rats, or if my face and body were that of a goddess or of a beast, what matters to me is my mind!”

She took an impassioned step forward before quickly remembering who she was talking to and stepping back.

“I don’t want to follow any of those other gods, I want to follow the one that can help me become the best version of myself, like she made this city the best city it could be!” She regained her eye contact with Athena, determination bubbling beneath the surface, “I want to be  _ your  _ priestess my lady.” 

Silence fell over the garden, when Athena hadn’t immediately responded Medusa’s will wavered, “I-If, you’d have me, that is.”

Athena considered for a long moment.  _ A child of the sea could invite disaster into my ranks. She is a risk that no calculation would deem acceptable…...but….those eyes……. _

Athena broke her silence, “You…..interest me, Medusa.”

The woman stiffened, Athena briefly wondered if she were holding her breath. For some reason that garnered a smile upon her lips. “I will let you join my Priesthood. Do not disappoint me.”

“Yahooo!” Medusa leapt for joy before immediately trying to regain some semblance of composure, “Ehem, I mean, thank you. Milady.”

“Athena will do.” She replied as if on instinct that surprised even her.

“Oh...ok, Athena then. I won’t let you down.”

Athena’s smile seemed to grow at the mere sight of the other woman’s happiness, “No, I don’t think you will.”

  
  


“It’s been so long  _ m’lady _ ” Medusa hissed, an ocean of venom washing over her horse words.

“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.” Athena muttered pathetically, eyes bolted shut and face up against Poseidon’s chest. 

“Oh but it is m’lady” Medusa laughed, one that was hollow, short, and bitter.

“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening,” Panic seized her mind as Medusa’s cursed gaze locked her bones. “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t-

  
  


“-HAPPENING!” Hades yelled, kicking a giant spider (Thank Hephaestus for steel toed boots) straight in the groin (Do spiders even have those?).

The spider slammed against the bathroom mirror, shattering as it’s damaged body crumpled twitchily to the ground, bits of toilet paper still clinging to it’s mangled form from its hiding place under the lid. . “Take that you piece of shit!”

Hades fell against the wall of the train car, heaving and out of breath.  _ All I wanted to do was use the fucking bathroom.  _ He kicked the door close, ending the dazed giant spider with a sickening crunch. 

_ I’m really starting to miss the Underworld, at least there I can crap in peace. _

Many of the car’s passengers were either shooting him glares of annoyance or sitting there awkwardly hoping the teenager who’d just thrown a raging fit in the public restroom would vanish into thin air. There were a few who looked more concerned than angered, though not enough to actually go anywhere near him to see if he was ok. A young train attendant came forward, more because it was probably her job rather than genuine concern, “Sir are you alright?” 

“Yes” He sighed, finally catching his breath, “I believe I’m fine, thank you.” He muttered, clawing his way to his feet against the wall. The king of the Underworld composed himself, righted his pants, and zipped up his fly.  _ Gods that was open? The indignation. _

“Sorry about that, I’ll be going n-” A wet thud echoed out from the bathroom and the door creaked open. Hades’ shoulders slumped and sweat broke across his brow. “Oh fuck” he whinned.

A spider half his size lumbered through the threshold of the bathroom, it’s eyes locked onto it’s younger sibling’s corpse then slowly onto Hades. It hissed.  _ Oh fuck. _

Hades began to back up slowly, carefully, then the attendant opened her stupid mouth.

“Aw what a cute puppy, is she your’s?” 

_ What? _

She kneeled down next to the abomination and began to giddily scratch it’s...fur? Uggh. When she drew close the Mist that coated the creatures bulbous form stirred. Hades squinted and saw for a brief moment a very annoyed Chihuahua.  “Aw whoose a good boy?” The attendant said in a patronizing tone, her fingers kicking up the putrid sticky smell of unwashed undergarments and rotting candy.

Hades took another small step back, “Ok so I’ll just-” The giant spider then proceeded to leap off the ground and body check Hades into the nearest wall.

“FUCK!”  
“Aw look at him he likes you.”  
“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!”

The Spider pulled him down, it’s legs as strong as steel, and pinned him to the floor.

_ This is bad, this is bad, this is very bad. Why is this thing even here? A cyclops or a harpy maybe but why a giant spider? _

With a sickening squishing sound the giant spider began to wrap his right arm in it’s silk, it’s mandibles dripping with venom as it’s four black eyes eyed him hungrily.

_ Think on that later, kill it NOW! _

Hades reached into his shoe and pulled out a switch knife, celestial bronze, one of the emergency weapons he had stashed in the apartment if any of his children ever needed them. He never expected to need them himself.

A swift stab offed one of the spider’s legs but only managed to piss it off. The abomination stopped it’s work and lunged at Hades. The god of the underworld smacked it in the jaw with the but of the knife, narrowly guiding it’s razor sharp fangs away from his neck and into the wall. Hades spun himself around, flipping the knife back into its normal grip, then began furiously cutting the string, only to be stopped halfway through by the excruciating pain of fangs sinking an inch deep into his shoulder. Grunting out in pain, the adrenaline kicked in and Hades began to wildly flail about, slamming his back, and the spider clinging to it, against the wall repeatedly as hard and fast as he could. 

“What are you doing he’s only a dog!” The attendant cried.

_ This is not happening. _ Hades thought, the venom beginning to take hold as his movements grew sluggish.  _ The king of the Underworld, king of Riches, is NOT being scolded by a train attendant while being liquified by a giant spider.  _ The spider bit into him again, searing hot pain,  _ ok no I guess this is happening. _

“Help” He managed to sputter out.

The train attendant rolled her eyes at him, gave the monstrosity a loving pet, then left him at it’s mercy. The other passengers who were watching the “puppy” playing with him took that as the que to look away and return to whatever it was they were doing. The spider finished binding his arms.

_ Is this what it’s like for our children? Not being given the time of day, even when their lives are on the line?  _ He was breaking into a cold sweat now, his legs now bound together and quickly losing circulation. A new dreadful thought emerged in the old god’s mind.  _ Am….am I about to die? _ Defeat, imprisonment, even torture were things he’d come to fear if beaten at the hands of the titans or giants….but... _ death? _ What did that even MEAN for him in this form? While the monster’s poison flooded rampaged through his system and paralyzed him muscle by muscle, more and more thoughts began to follow the last.  _ Am I going to have to see my own kingdom from below? The judges wouldn’t take this opportunity to revolt...would they? Gods would Charon  even let him through? Would he recognize him? What about Persephone? Wait is Persephone even safe right now? Gods I am a terrible husband. _

Another loud thump came from the side and out of the corner of Hades’ eye he could see an even larger spider than the last crawling out of it. The goliath loomed over him as if to inspect it’s minion’s work, mandibles dripping with a hungry acid, dozens of eyes starring soullessly into his. It was then Hades finally understood the mortal saying,  _ s _ taring down death.

_ “This was ssssoooooooooo eeeeeaaaaaassssyyyyyyy.”  _  The monster hissed and crackled, it’s voice vaguely masculine underneath  the gurgles of its own venom. “ _ The lord of the underworld on my ddinner plate. Mother was right to trust those humans.” _

“Arachne?” Hades said, venom numbing his mouth and turning the word into a barely understandable slur. The beast seemed to smile, if that were even physically possible. “ _ Once reformed mother will be most pleeased the feeast we’ve prepareed. Your blood for the humans, meeat for us and our childreen, and reveennge for mothhheer.” _

Hades’ thoughts raced as fast as they could against the poison that further addled him.  _ “Arachne is working with whoever’s behind this for revenge, that can only mean-”  _ if near total paralysis hasn’t already set in Hades’ eyes would of shot wide. “- _ SHE would be with them as well, that means, shit Athena and Poseidon, they’re in danger, have to find a...wait what was that about blood? _ ”

As if on cue the super massive spider raised on of its many legs, revealing something attached to it, a small celestial bronze syringe with a stygian steel tip. Hades’ slowing blood went cold. 

_ Oh. _

The spider’s hovered the syringe a foot over his neck, moments from striking. “ _ Oh, and I beeleeive the huumans wanteed me too teell you, B sends t-” _

_ Shrink. _

_ “GAAAAH”  _

A blade of stygian iron erupted through the abdomen of the large spider, killing it in seconds, showering the back of the train car in an explosion of golden dust, starting a panic in the rest. In the blur of dust Hades saw a shadow travel portal close, in front of it, a boy with golden hair, a knife, and a medical bag. Next to him, a scraggly boy in his late teens in a leather jacket brandishing the sword that saved him stood ready for battle. The second spider hissed in anger, but quickly that quickly dissolved into fear as Nico Di Angelo closed in.

Hades beamed with pride.

_ “That’s my BOY!”   _ He slurred before passing out, his tongue lolling on the floor. It was all quite elegant he was later assured.

  
  
  
  


“My dear in four thousand years surely you must have learned by now that  _ anything  _ can happen” Medusa hissed.

Athena tried to reach for her leg where she had strapped a sheathed dagger before leaving the apartment, but her body was so paralyzed from fear that she could barely reach the hilt.

Medusa let out a chuckle. “What’s wrong  _ M’lady _ ? Have you forgotten how to wield a blade while sitting in the clouds all day?” She stormed forward with an unnatural speed and caught her hesitant wrist in a vice like grip that cracked bone. Athena winced in pain, fear muting her cry, eyes still bolted shut. Why oh why did superhuman strength come with the curse?

Medusa yanked her closer. “No!” Poseidon yelled, voice shaking. She heard the hiss of a blade leaving it’s sheath, only to be followed up by Poseidon being kicked to the ground, blade skittering out of his hands and across the train car floor.

Medusa grabbed Athena by the throat, grip nearly choking her, and pulled her up to her face. “It’s truly a shame.” Her cool lips hovered over her ear, strands of snake hair tentatively poked around her eyelids, ready and waiting to tear them open. “I still remember, when your loyal bards and priests preached your rhapsodes of how you were peerless with a blade, devising a thousand ways to defeat an enemy before they drew theirs then winning with the thousandth and first. I should know, because I sang them as well and sang them  _ proud _ until my throat went raw.” Her voice danced between joyful and bitter, nostalgic and sadistic, all while the hiss of her hair hummed a steady, hungry tune.

“M-Medusa please-” She sputtered out in a tiny voice.

“Shut up you witch!” Medusa tightened her grip, Athena wheezed as her air pipe was crushed. “You will speak when I tell you to for a change. After all this time I am going to.  _ Say. My. Piece.”  _ She spat. Athena could feel the full brunt of her stare boring down on her. SHe nodded meekly and Medusa let up on her grip enough to let her breath again. “There, not as cruel as you then am I?” She mocked.

“Y’know for the first few years, or was it decades? Of this  _ curse  _ I sang myself to sleep with those hymns, best I could between the tears at least. Even know I still know them by heart. I was so convinced that you’d take pity on me again and fix what you broke. The last time I sang them was the night your little half brother  _ murdered  _ me and I woke up in Tartarus. No, I don’t believe I sang after that.”

Athena could feel Medusa lazily drag one of her claws across her cheek, drawing the tiniest drop of blood. Athena could have sworn she heard her gasp.

“Red” her former priestess whispered, “So this is real. Really real. _Holy Shit_ ” She barely seemed to believe it, her grip slackened a moment, Athena seized the chance and tried to push here away. Medusa realized her mistake and responded with anger. “Don’t you ruin this now!” Medusa threw Athena to the ground. Beside her she heard Poseidon climb to his feet and try and jump his former lover, only to be grabbed around the neck mid air.  
“Don’t interfere, I’ll get to you LATER!” She growled before throwing him across the train. He hit a wall with such force Athena briefly wondered if he left a dent.

Athena tried to slowly crawl away but Medusa quickly leaned down and pinned her to the floor. “But there is a silver lining in that, I found a new way to cope, a new way to fend of the nightmares and sleep even in a living hell. She pressed her knee into the small of Athena’s back  and held her head down against the floor. Athena whimpered. Medusa continued, “Whenever I got scared I just imagined myself here, you at my mercy, my revenge at hand.”  
Athena heard her take something out of her pocket and bring it close to Athena’s neck. Whatever it was it radiate such fearsome cold that it chilled her to her bones without even touching her. “Those humans said this would hurt more than death itself, I do hope you’ll choose my eyes over more than a second of it, you wretched, traitorous little bit-”

Sword tore through flesh and Medusa screamed, she released Athena and the frigid item and tumbled to the floor besides her. “Shit I missed, don’t look!” Said a voice, one she identified as, surprising, Nico Di Angelo. A pained and angry roar accompanied by the sound of several snake bodies hitting the ground with a dying wine confirmed just that. Medusa had dodged just in time, losing some of her hair and not her head.

“Why you little, ugh dammit Fates just let me have this!” She wailed, drawing her own weapon.

As monster and demi-god clashed, Athena felt human hands grabbed her and pulled her to her feet, “Are you hurt” Will Solace she believed. She didn’t open her eyes to check.

“You aren’t facing her, you can open your eyes,” He said, pulling her further away from the brawl unfolding behind her. From the sound of it it seemed like Di Angelo was winning, if barely. She tentatively open her eyes to see the spitting image of her half brother Apollo giving her a strained _“You’ll be ok, probably”_   smile and a pale faced Hades struggling to pull an injured Poseidon to his feet.  
“Some good your weapons did brother.” Poseidon complained, trying desperately to keep himself composed. But Athena could see from the frantic look in his eyes that he’d been every bit as panicked as she was.

“I-don’t think it was the weapons that failed today brother” Hades spoke, his voice hollow as it looked like he was currently battling the need to throw up “I believe that trophy goes to  _ us _ .”

_ Us.  _ Athena thought.  _ Or me? _

Medusa let out another shrill scream and the sound of sword rending flesh rang out. It made Athena’s skin crawl and heart drop. She fought down the sudden illogical impulse to turn around and focused on the reflective floor beside her.

In it she could see her, train attendee outfit in tatters, a grey scabbing would upside her head and now a stumb where her sword hand ought to be. Di Angelo, head down, jumped backwards and held his sword up, ready to deflect any reckless charge and send her back to Tartarus. 

“Fuck...ehh…..you” She panted, but the monstress did not press her attacks further. Instead she looked to Athena, then down at the floor. Through the reflection Athena saw her face for the first time in four thousand years. Her curse left her marred and deformed beyond any mortal recognition, but there, in that reflection, Athena saw the one true flaw in her transformation, her eyes remained the same. Hateful? Yes. Vacant of that glimmer of mischief? Completely. But even still they kept that mesmerizing coral pink shine.

“I’ll find you.” She growled, a voice far to enraged for those eyes. “No matter how long it takes, you will die by my hands.” Medusa reached into her shirt pocket with her remaining hand and pulled out a strange vial shaped capsule with a large button on it. She pressed it and form it bellowed a cloud of jet black shadows that immediately enveloped her. Within a second the cloud had vanished, her along with it. She Shadow Traveled.

“Um...what?” Asked a deeply confused Nico.

“No fair” muttered Hades. “That’s my--oh fates-” 

And then he threw up.

  
  


Aphrodite saw Medusa and turned to stone.   
“You’re overreacting” shouted Hephestaus through the shoddy bathroom door.

Of course she wasn’t, this was the real deal, or well, as bad as the real deal. Yes she was still technically doing that mortal thing called breathing, and true, there wasn’t a bloodthirsty snake haired monsters staring her down, but there was her reflection in the bathroom mirror which, for all purposes that mattered, was just as horrid.

Apparently mortal make-up, did this thing called _smugging_. It was horrific.   
“I’m not listening, now go away!” She yelled, scrubbing her face clean of the offending mess. All she did was sleep with it on? How was she supposed to know mortal cosmetics were so terrible that something as simple as constantly tossing around in your sleep would ruin them and make her look like someone splashed a bucket of paint all over her? She was the victim through and through.

Failed make-up gone, she reached for the nearest towel, thoughts still lamenting her first morning as a mortal. Of course her hair was a complete mess, tangled and standing on ends from sleeping and refusing to return to being perfect when she willed it (so unfair). Of course she had, as her husband and boyfriend put it, been “Snoring like a Cyclops.” Because that was what beauty looked like. And of course she had apparently been  _ drooling  _ the whole time. She nearly puked at the thought. 

_ “The goddess of beauty, drooling like a shit dwelling ape? If that got out I’d be ruined, destroyed, obliterated.”  _ Her thoughts screamed. She tried to push them back as she frantically tore through Claireese’s cabinets looking for any left over make-up. She failed.

“Come on Aph quit screwing around and get out here already” Groaned Aries.

_ “No!”  _ Her thoughts continued.  _ “He can’t see me like this, not again, not ever.” _

She ripped open a tube of lipstick and screamed internally when she realized it was empty.

_ “Who are we kidding?”  _ She frozen. “ _ He already saw the monster snoring away, he won’t ever want to touch you again. Nobody will when he opens his big stupid mouth about it. Not even Hephaestus could love that.”  _

Aphrodite dropped the tube with shaky hands and pulled herself sullenly to her feet and stared at her reflection. Claireese had said she looked like her own late daughter Silena, and honestly, She saw the resemblance. Skin color, hair, eyes, and even bone structure were almost identical her’s, except, except-

_ “She couldn’t have REALLY looked like this in the morning, could she?” _

Her hair was dull and frazzled, it’s split ends and unwanted bends and curls giving Aphrodite anxiety just looking at it. Her lips were pale much like her skin, except for-

Her heart stopped and for a moment she was positive she would have preferred to be looking at Medusa. 

Because sitting right there on the side of her chin was a pussy red and yellow Zit. 

Tears started to form at the edges of her eyes. No, she didn’t look like her beautiful daughter, she looked like a grotesque parody of her, a guttered born wretch. 

_ “Worthless.” _

“All right I’m coming in.” A voice, this one belonging to Claireese came from behind and snapped the goddess out of her spiral.

She entered the bathroom, shooed the boys away from the door, then turned to look at her.

She saw the zit and didn’t skip a beat.

“Oh, that’s what’s got you in a panic.”

“I’m hideous” Aphrodite said emptily, echoing what she’d said last night and would keep saying as long as it held true.

Claireese sighed, “Bullshit.”

Aphrodite looked up, “Come again?”

“Bull. Fucking. Shit.” She repeated, annoyance building. “I can’t believe I have to go through this song and dance with the mother after doing it with the daughter.”

“What?”

“Sorry, shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” Claireese retracted, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Just feel like this is going to be a long day.”  
Aphrodite shook her head “No, I mean, you said that Silena would look like this too?”

“Yup, the paragons of beauty had their bumps and quirks just like the rest of us, much as they tried to hide it. Here-” She pulled something out of her jacket pocket, Aphrodite’s anxiety loosened just a tad at the sight, “I’ve got some concealer and foundation from downstairs, not much but it should get you to Camp. I’ll help you put it on.”

Aphrodite nodded and sat down in a chair facing the mirror. She sat as still as she could, a task far harder than it should have been with her new found strange urge to be constantly moving.  _ Is that a demi-god thing? I thought that was a myth.  _ And watched as Claireese did her work.

It was fairly sloppy and about what she could expect from a daughter of Aries, but it was the bare minimum. The concealer removed the pimple from sight and the foundation helped give a little color and life to her pale face.

“Better?” asked Claireese when she was finished.

_ Not really,  _ she thought.

“A bit” she said.

Claireese nodded in approval, “Alright then, let’s get going.” She turned to leave but a renewed panic seized Aphrodite and she grabbed her by the arm, “Wait.”

“What?”

“My hair, it’s horrible.”

Claireese rolled her eyes but didn’t get angry, “We don’t have time for you to do your hair.”

“But I can’t be seen like this.”

“Can’t be seen like, urgh-” She groaned and pulled herself free, “Like daughter like mother, hold on I’ve got an idea.”

She left the room, leaving Aphrodite alone with her thoughts, something she was quickly growing to hate, but she returned before the self deprecation could start up again. She held what appeared to be an old unmarked black hat box. 

“Here” she said, a slight tinge of apprehension in her voice.

She took the box and opened it. She was not pleased.  
“You want me to wear a Beanie!?”

Because that was what it looked like, within the box was a single unremarkable grey beanie that looked like it had been picked up from some good will outlet. 

“Yes.” She replied.

“I won’t.”

“It’s cold.”

“I don’t care.”  
“It was Silena’s”

“.....ok.”

“Good.”

The debate ended there and the two stood in awkward silence. “I’ll get the car started. Grab some breakfast or whatever downstairs quick, we’re leaving in five.”

And with that Claireese left, Aphrodite now again alone, this time with both her thoughts and an ugly heirloom hat. Reluctantly, she took the shabby thing out of its box and put it on. She looked to the mirror one more time. The thought of wearing something so unfashionable mortified her but she had to admit, it looked better than her freed and frayed crows nest of bed head so it would have to do. Lesser of two evils and all that.

Aphrodite got up, gave the mirror one last anxious look, and left the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, Athena's got some explaining to do.
> 
> Thanks for reading and please leave a Kudos if you like this and Bookmark it so you don't miss the next update! A comment on your thoughts would be immensely appreciated as well. See you next time!


	11. Twin Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aph panics, Medusa cries, and a girl has her fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. I've been sitting on the finished version of this chapter for a week but life's just not been giving me the time to edit. Hope to get one more chapter out by the end of summer. Enjoy!

Medusa was in pain. That was a constant in her eternal life but getting her hand severed definitely made it worse. Being slingshotted a hundred miles through the ever looming darkness beyond the mortal world in that suicide tunnel Hades and his children called Shadow Travel certainly didn’t make anything better. 

Honestly she’d probably need to string that scrawny little researcher up just for the bumpy ride. 

_ Perfect Replication my ass. _

A few seconds after she vanished into the shadows, Medusa materialized two feet off the ground and slammed into metallic floor of her employer’s lab with all the grace to be expected from a freak of nature such as herself.

“Klaus I’m going to fucking kill you!” She hissed as she hit the hard floor, cradling the stump that was her right arm.

“Ah, so it seems you’ve failed as well, guess that’s two in the hole already.” Said a voice. Medusa could practically  _ hear  _ the man’s telltale frown. She spun around with a violent hiss.

Klaus was wearing sunglasses of course, I’d be highly stupid of him to be working with her and not be. The middle aged researcher sat in a chair in the corner of his lab reading a newspaper, no doubt having expected her to arrive. Though the sunglasses covered his eyes she could guess at his emotions, landing somewhere between frustrated and utterly unsurprised.

“No shit.” Medusa regained some of her composure and rose to her feet. “That means your little plan almost sent me back to Tartarus. I told you I’m  _ not  _ going back there-”

“-again?” Klaus finished. “Yes you’ve mentioned this desire on multiple occasions. Perhaps I should start recording you, get Belle to make a mix tape of it in her spare time?” If the man’s face and tone weren’t so permanently jaded she’d have thought he sounded cheeky.

Medusa scowled in return, “Whatever, the point is you lied to me. You said, and I can’t believe I believed you, that Poseidon and  _ Athena _ were human now and waiting for me on a silver platter, now look at me!” She waved her stump arm dramatically, droplets of green blood mixed with golden dust splattered across the floor. It hurt. A lot.

Sure I’d regenerate in a few days as good as new. Well, as good as “new” was to her, but that wasn’t the worst part. “Look at them!” She pointed at her remaining Snakes, whining and kissed at the gash on her head where their siblings once were before that damn child sliced them off. And unlike her hand those little ankle-biters would take  _ weeks  _ to grow back, and even then there was no guarantee they’d retain all their muscle memory and personality.

Medusa sighed internally.  _ Sorry Mimsy, Pory, Medusa Jr., and you too Kyle.  _

Yes, she named her Snakes. No she was not going to justify that.

Medusa saw Klaus’s eyes move down to the mess her wounds were making on his floor and sighed, “While yes things did go awry we did warn you that this mission would have risks. You were going god hunting after all.”

“Demi-gods are more than just a risk for monsters, it’s a damn near death sentence most of the time!” She sneered. 

Klaus groaned, “You know what forget it” He got up from his chair and tossed his newspaper behind him. “We didn’t get their blood, that’s fine, they can be recovered later, even if it will be harder. What matters is what we  _ did  _ gain.”

“And what exactly did  _ we _ gain?  _ Doctor?”  _

“Knowledge.” He said bluntly. “It’s clear from both your’s and the  _ “Power Couple’s”  _ missions that the gods are completely incapable of defending themselves in their current state.” His normal resting scowl tightened a bit, “And that the Demi-gods will continue to be a thorn in our sides even with their parents toppled. Though I could have predicted that.”

“You and me both!” Medusa snapped. She had had it with Klaus and his mortals, with their enigmatic little leader Mrs. P. She didn’t care what delusions of grandeur they had about what they could do on top, all she cared about was getting patched up and getting back out there. Poseidon, Athena, they were so close, so  _ very  _ close, she could almost-

Klaus continued to prattle on. “Anyways the Demi-god situation should be taken care of shortly. If Belle’s plan works as intended then they will be neutralized and you will have your second shot in a matter of days. The Romans will be a bit trickier but that’s a topic I doubt concerns you. Speaking of-” 

Klaus pulled an unmarked tin from his pocket, “Care for a mint?” He tossed the case to her. She caught it with one of her surviving snakes-

_ You go Trisha! _

-and took a look inside. “Are these Ambrosia?”

“We’ve been working on changing the recipe so it’s healing properties work on humans and monsters just as well as it does the demi-gods and Legacies. Eat one of those and your wounds will be healed by nightfall.”

“And if these are as  _ perfect  _ as your shadow travel?”

“Just shut up and eat, besides I’ve got one more thing to show you” He got up with a huff and tucked his paper underneath his arm, “This way.” 

With a weak groan of protest Medusa popped one of the tick-tack like pods of Ambrosia into her mouth and when it didn’t immediately vaporize her she followed the annoying human man out of the room.

  
  
  


A flick of the wrist and an eyelash curled. Perfect. A little lip-gloss, applied with the delicacy of a painter. Perfect. Hair brushed sixty seven times with the finest brush money could buy. Perfect. 

“Do you really need to put on  _ make-up  _ to sit in a car and talk?”

Juliet scowled at the man, Jeffrey she believed, through the gap in his seat. Her icy  _ don’t fuck with me  _ glare must have gotten through his thick skull because he shrunk back into his seat and went back to starring aimlessly out of the window. She smirked as she went back to inspecting her reflection in her pocket mirror. 

Juliet would look perfect the morning she’d take down her mother. Over the course of the last year she’d day dreamed, wondered what she should wear to such an occasion. How should she do her hair, what jewelry would she brandished? And how flippant or sadistic should her greeting be in order to watch the color drain from Aphrodite’s pretty pink checks the fastests as she realized what hell hath come to pay.  

Her eye twitched. It appeared  _ haths  _ and  _ to bes _ were still slipping into her internal monologues. You’d think a year of being made fun of by the illiterate poor would drive such a thing away.

Satisfied with her work, Juliet put her tools of beauty down and took one last long look at herself in the mirror. Eventually she decided less was more, a lesson that, despite what her rather  _ barbaric  _ compariotes would say, she had learned unlike her  _ whore  _ of a mother. She wore a simple white gown, modified and insulated to meet with current “standards” and “practicality” as well as to combat the biting cold of the Americas this time of year. 

She forewent flashier choices of make-up and decided she wanted to look as natural as she could, like she was on the day her mother  _ screwed  _ her. Though of course she needed a little touching up, she was of course a girl still in her teens and there was this  _ annoying  _ little zit on the right of her lip and a smattering of black heads upon her bridge that made her  _ Nauseous. _

Her hair was straight and simple; dark brown, no highlights, smooth and as cared for the day  _ he  _ was suppose to cares-

“Juliet come in-”

She groaned, pulling out the phone they had given her. “Yeah Zack?”

The gruff voice of a man maybe a little too old to be god hunting came through. “You three in position?”

“Ready and waiting,” she said. Herself and her two “co-workers” (personal attendants) Jeffery and Adam, her driver, were armed standard issue and sitting in an unremarkable black van parked a block down from the apartment building in question, now they were just waiting for-

“It’s showtime kid, bag em and tag em” he said before hanging up. 

Adam and Jeffery quickly sat up in their seats, “Alright let’s-OW HEY WAIT-”

Juliet pushed them both away and leaned over the dash to get a better angle. She peered through the binoculars she picked off of Usagi (she’d have to fend the beast off later if she found out), and locked on to the party in question.

An old Car barely fit for travel slinked out of the parking lot of the complex to meet four teenagers bundled for the day’s encroaching cold. 

The driver, a boy nearing twenty hopped out and pulled one of the girls into a hug. Claireese and Chris, Zack had informed her. That meant the other three were-

Oversized biker-wannabe, Ares. Leather skinned cripple hanging off of him, Hephaestus, and lastly.

Her mouth went dry, grip tightened, and she could practically  _ hear  _ her dagger singing for her blood, but one thought popped into her head before all the others.

“What in Hades is she wearing?” 

What was that, that, greyish blotch of frayed fabric she had on her had, is that a  _ beanie _ ? Her  _ MOTHER  _ wearing a  _ BEANIE _ ? She didn’t know whether to laugh at her clear misfortune or to cry from second hand embarrassment. 

Then all the bloodlust and righteous fury began seeping back in a few seconds later and she remembered what she was here for. 

“Start the car and loop around after they leave, we’re tailing them till we get on the highway then close in.”

She returned to her seat and a duet of grumbles told her two manservents were obliging the demand.

Juliet sat in anticipation, One hand on the hilt of her Dagger and the other gripped around the cellphone. A sadistic smile bloomed across her face.

  
  
  


“Why does it taste like fish?” Medusa asked, nearly gagging on the salty pulp that was her third Ambrosia tablet.

Klaus, still ahead of her, shrugged, “The taste is entirely psychological, it was apples for me and clam chowder for Zack from enforcement.”

“But  _ why  _ fish?”

Klaus shrugged, “I dunno, you miss the taste of fish? I’m a scientist, not a psychologist. What you taste says more about you then it does about it.”

Medusa mulled the thought over a moment, a grimace on her face. Still, the altered Ambrosia worked fine and her wounds were healing rapidly. So she decided to suck it up and take one last pill for the day. She stopped walking the second it hit her.

“The taste changed”

Klaus stopped and gave her a sideways glance from beneath his glasses.

“Why” she growled.

Klaus gave an exasperated sigh, “I guess you miss  _ two  _ flavors then. Now can we please get going? I have a  _ lot  _ of work to do today  _ and  _ back-up plans to right when the Heathers wannabe and the drunk  _ inevitably  _ fail their missions as well.”

Medusa grumbled and followed along, spitting out the chewed up Ambrosia. She could heal the rest on her own. 

She didn’t need to know the taste of olives again. 

  
  


Twelve minutes in and Aphrodite was thoroughly uncomfortable. Yes she managed to wrest shotgun from her husband and her boyfriend’s (no they are  _ never  _ talking about that) hands so that was  _ some  _ relief. But-

“Does this car even  _ have  _ heat?” She asked.

Claireese, who had been blaring Metallica non-stop for the whole ride much to her father’s approval and her uncle’s grumbling disapproval, barely shot her a glance when she responded, “No. Why do you think I told you to bundle up?”

Aph huffed and pulled the shabby old parka Claireese had loaned her up around her neck. When that wasn’t enough she tugged the rim of her dead daughter’s beanie down around her ears. She gagged. She knew she probably looked _hideous_ like this, all her hard work trying to make that mortal make-up work was _worthless._ She felt an ich growing on her right arm, she needed a distraction. _  
_ She glanced up at the rear view mirror. Ares seemed to be more or less enjoying himself with the music selection and managed to exchange a few words with his daughter that weren’t beyond awkward and debatably hostile. So that was a plus. Hephaestus had somehow gotten into the toolbox the half-blood couple kept in the back and was absently playing with the wrench. He looked content….she guessed, even after a few thousand years she was never able to tell if he was happy or miserable. If anything she was or did  was good enough for the crabby gi- _wait hold on did he just look at me?_

She could have sworn he’d just stolen a glance at her, Ares too. Was she imagining things? Why on earth would they look at her when she looked like, like  _ this.  _

Her itch spread to both arms.

_ Why? There wasn’t anything worth seeing was there? Maybe the trainwreck she was imitating was entertaining? _

She could feel her mouth going dry and her leg beginning to bounce uncontrollably.

_That was it right?_ _Must be funny to see her like this? Must be disgusting, can’t possibly look away right? Ibet it’s sooooooo funnny? Likelookingata bearded woman at a circus with how bad thisbadlyconcealedhair is? Ibetyoucan’tpossiblylookawayfromthisletdownfreakyoucallawifeandloveryoujudgementalpricksit’s notfaultthoughitkindofisthatshe’ssoworthlessshecan’tevenlooklikeahumanmod-_

“I think that car is following us.”

Aph’s plunge into her thoughts abruptly stopped.

“Shit, you think?” Replied Claireese.

Aph spotted it in the rear view mirror. Trailing not far behind them on the highway was an unmarked black van. Her ich was replaced with an equally smothering feeling of dread.

  
  


“In pursuit Zack.”

“Good, do you need reinforcements?”

“No, no, say do you have that Claireece girl’s cell number in your files?” Juliet smirked.

Zack grumbled as he fiddled with his phone on the other end. “There I just texted it to you, what do you need it for?”

“Catching the prey, what else?”

“Juliet don’t do anything reck-”

_ Click. _

“Now the fun can begin.”

  
  


“Yep they are definitely following us.” 

Claireese needed to be reminded by her uncle twice to keep her eyes on the road and not the car that had been tailing them for ten minutes now. 

“Hey dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Underneath my seat is a spare sword, take it out, we might need it.”

Ares grinned and began rummaging through the storage compartment. Aph huddled herself against the window, continuing to stare back at the van through the rear view mirror.

“You ok?”

Aph didn’t respond.

Claireese spoke again, “Hey Aph, you ok?”

 Her newfound anxiety was bubbling over to the point where she couldn’t speak, even the one time during the tense, (chase I guess?) Claireese asked if she were ok she just sat there, staring out at the van in the rear view mirror. Her thoughts rattled in her head.

_ Getagrip Getagrip, you’re spirallingstopit they need a stableGoddess not what youarerightnow _ _ alwaysare.  _ _ Just stop it, stopit stopit stop- _

“Aph!” Clairrese shouted, making the small goddess jump in her seat and pull her seat belt into a vice grip that bleached her knuckles white.

_ Oh great you look like a airheadandaspaz and there is nothing- _

“Aph” Clairese repeated, in a tone more caring than she thought a child of Ares was capable of. She took one hand tentatively off the steering wheel and placed it on Aph’s. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, but I need you to do me and more importantly yourself a favor. Take a deep breath and calm down.”

Aph nodded and did as she said. Breathing was weird, as were all human body functions she’d begun to realize. Hand still placed on her’s and A few breaths later, Aph’s heart rate began to slow. 

Then Ares of course opened his big mouth, “Yeah babe you gotta calm down, you’ll ruin your looks at this rate, then what?”

Aaaaaaand up the heart rate went, rocketing up past the moon and Mars, one of the only things in the universe large enough to compete with her own lover’s ego.

Claireese shot him a glare through the dash mirror.

“What’d I do?” He replied. “Seriously what’d I d-

_ Thwack.  _ Apparently someone had found a use for the wrench

-FUCK.” Ares gripped his leg tightly, “What the fuck Hephaestus?” 

Hephaestus ignored him and put his tools away, muttering something about breaking her.

Claireese groaned, “Both of you just shut-”

_ Ring ring. Ring ring. _

“The hell’s happening now?” Exasperated, Claireese pulled out her phone and answered it. She’d forgotten to check the caller id. She’d regret this shortly.

“What?” She snarled.

“Hello there” the voice of a teenage girl replied.

Aph barely caught it, but that voice. Her now faulty human memory tried and tried but couldn’t, or more likely subconsciously didn’t want to, place it to a name. It filled her with a panicked dread all the same.

“Who is this and what do you want?” 

The voice chuckled.

“Oh it’s fairly simple really, I want you to drive into oncoming traffic.”

“The fuck would I-”

Claireese made a violent U-turn in the middle of the highway that nearly toppled the car and began driving down the wrong lane. They could see other cars coming.

Everyone screamed.

  
  
  


“What the hell Juliet!?” Adam and Jeffery yelled in unison.

“Oh bite me” she spat back, enjoying the panicked shrieks coming from her phone.

“Catch them  _ alive  _ and with  _ minimal  _ collateral-” Adam sputtered.

“Oh  _ fine _ ” she put the phone back up to her ear. “Can’t a girl play with her food a bit” she muttered.

  
  


A thought occurred to Aphrodite.

She was going to die.

She was going to die  _ brutally _ .

“Claireese what the FUCK?” Aries yelled.

“I’ll put the tools back, I swear!”

“I-I d-” Clairesse forced out, her expression vacant, as if something was pushing her out of her own mind. Aph knew of only one thing that could do that to a person with only a word.

_ Charmspeak.  _ Aph shuddered.

The phone, still gripped in Claireece hand, cracked back to life.

“Ok, ok, turn around, go back to normal. No need to kill yourself  _ now _ .” The voice said with an audible smile. It’s familiarity continued to rattle Aph.

Claireese swerved back into the right direction, nearly hitting three other cars.

“Oh thank Chaos” breathed Hephestaus.

The phone again, “Now floor it.”

_ Uh Oh. _

The car rocketed forward, it’s rickety frame damn near falling apart in the process.

The group screamed again, Claireese narrowly dodging other cars as her lead foot pressed ever downward, immovable. The voice from the phone gave an airy laugh that Aph was sure had haunted her dreams at some point.

They passed the black van and an argument broke out on the other end. “Oh come on they’re  _ safeish  _ now Adam. Don’t give me that look Jeffery. Ugh fine.”

The voice cleared it’s throat and Aph focused on the voice, feeling the power behind them and confirming her suspicion.

“Pull over and surrender, we won’t kill you if you don’t resist.”

The car began to slow immediately. Aph was thrown against her seatbelt, groaning from the whiplash.

“What did you get me into?” Claireese strained in rage against the smothering of the Charmspeak.

Her eyes darted to the rear view mirror. The black van was catching up. This immediate stretch of the highway was deserted, the two cars leaving the few around them in the dust. 

No witnesses.

Gears turned in her head as the rest of the car panicked.

No collateral damage then.

A light bulb flicked on in her head. Athena would be proud.

“Give me that!” She lunged at Claireese and pried the phone from her hands, the girl lto surprised to hold on.

The voice chuckled, “Oh is that who I think it is?”

“Leave!” Aph shouted, pulling for any strand of her power.

The phone laughed back in her face. “That’s the best you’ve got? Go fuck yourself, actually no, I think I’ve got someting better in mind.” 

Aph felt like she was about to cry. She glanced back at her companions. Claireese was swearing up a storm trying to move her feet and failing. A look of fear breaking over the forced calmness of the trance. Aries was screaming at the top of his lungs for Claireese to  _ “fucking drive”,  _ and Hephestaus had frozen like a deer in head lights. 

This was up to her.  _ Useless, weare screwed, Ican’tevenbebeautifulIhavenothingelsewe’re screwedscrewedscrewedscrewedscrewedscrewed. _

The car came to a stop on the side of the highway. They were sitting ducks.

“This is perfect, just perfect.” The voice cheered.

_ scrwedscrewedworthlessscrewedworthlessscrewedscrewedscrewedscrew- _

A hand clamped down on her shoulder. Her head snapped up to see Claireese staring at her, a fragile calm on her face running interference with the torrent of yelling from her father behind her. 

“Claireese?” She asked.

“Do it.”

“But it didn’t.”

“I’ve seen what your kids can do with that voice, now try again you can do it.”

“I don’t think I-”

“I think you can.”

“You’d think wrong.”

“Alright, I  _ believe  _ you can.”

The voice on the other end was to busy giggling and squabbling with the others in the van to notice them. Aph took a deep breath. Her niece needed her. She quested for something deep inside her. There  _ had  _ to be something still in there, some lingering spark of divinity, it couldn’t all be gone, it just  _ couldn’t _ . Her daughter’s  _ best friend _ needed her. It HAD to be there. Something, anything, anything worthwhile.  _ Somebody  _ needed her. Somebody asked for  _ her help _ . 

_ When. _ She thought.  _ When has that ever happened? _

She caught something, something powerful, primal, vicious,  **_dark_ ** that had sunk to the bottom of her being. With force of will she yanked it free. 

The girl on the other side spoke, “As weak as it is it’s good hearing your voice again, mot-”

“Shut Up” Aph growled.

The girl went silent.

She looked out the window and glared at the railing on the other side of the highway, and let a stray dark thought she’d pulled loose saunter out.

“Crash.”

“Yes my goddess.” Two male voices spoke in unison. There was a screech of wheels, the scream of a girl so blood curdling it could only have belonged to one person in all of history. Her stomach dropped as the girls name returned to her.

The van shot past them at breakneck speed, swerved wide, and crashed head long into the railing. The other line went silent, as did their car.

Aries broke the silence first “Fuck” disbelief replacing anger.

“For once we agreed” spoke Hephestaus in the same tone.

Aph had turned ghost white. Fitting seeing as she’d just heard the screech of one.

“Hey Aph?” Claireese looked at her with apprehension, as if she’d just remembered it was a god that was sitting next to her. “C-can I have my phone back?”

Aphrodite looked down at her hands. At the phone. At the  _ murder  _ weapon. And for some reason, despite all the times she’d punished mortals for their insolence like this before, this time something  _ frightened  _ her.

“AH!” She tossed it out the window on reflex, anything to get it out of her hands. It shattered on the pavement.

“Sorry?” She said sheepishly,  weak smile as her defense

Claireese sighed and turned back to the wheel, expression back to her normal mildly pissed off look.

“Let’s go before more show up.”

The three gods nodded quietly as she hit the gas and they sped along, down the coast of California and towards New Rome.

  
  


“Please step inside.”

After a few minutes Medusa found herself in one of the coalition’s many testing and containment labs where Klaus and his lab coat cronies poked and prodded at things they barely understood and things they understood frighteningly well for mortals.

“Oh and put these on” Klaus handed her a pair of sunglasses. “Wouldn’t want any-”

Medusa scowled and put them on.

“Right.” He said without missing a beat and guided her through the lab.

To one side she spotted a pair of researches in waste disposal gear cooking human made ambrosia behind a blast shield. Progress was good she heard, minus the third degree burns. To the other was the door to a forge where, according to Klaus, a turn coat Legacy of Vulcan was experimenting with potential alloys of Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold. Methods of procuring Stygian Steel were apparently still pending.

They passed numerous other experiments, a team measuring the effectiveness of Charmspeak through recordings, scientists comparing stolen brain scans of Athenian children and legacies with normal mortal brains.

_ Was that a Centaur being taught arithmetic?  _ Medusa thought incredulously.  _ That’s going to crash and burn HARD. _

Many of the researchers, particularly the older ones, all waved brief hellos towards Klaus who occasionally waved back. All of them turned quite and clammy when they spotted her though. They then like clockwork spun round on their heels after a millisecond of freezing like a deer in headlights and darted off to whatever inane thing they suddenly remembered they had to do. In the corner. Muttering to their colleagues. Conveniently  _ away  _ from Medusa. Yes. Convenient.

 Among them were a few brief looks that could be interpreted as sympathy or pity. Medusa believed them to be ones of pity, if she even acknowledged them at all. 

“When our boss highered you, you had one condition.” Klaus finally said when they’d arrived at one experimentation station at the far corner of the lab.

“To lift my curse,” she replied.

Klaus nodded, one of his assistants ran up to him and passed him a clipboard, whispering excitedly about some “breakthrough” before darting off.

Klaus looked over the papers passed to him and she caught the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “Medusa, tell me, do you remember one Mrs. Lauren Morris?”

“Yes” Medusa grimaced for about the millionth time that day. “Back about, oh, ten years ago, she came to my garden looking for directions and I-” She paused, “-hadn’t heard her come in. My glasses were in my pocket book.”

Klaus nodded again before gesturing to the far wall, “Medusa, I’d like you to look through that window, the glass is one way so don’t worry about turning someone to stone.” 

She nodded and made her way over, taking off that infernal contraption of black plastic as she went. She couldn’t recall if it was an effect of the curse on her mind or something that persevered from her days as a stupdi human girl, but Medusa never liked the feeling of anything obstructing her view of the world.

Looking through the window, she saw a bright whie sterilized containment room. Several researchers in hazmat suits were crowded around something in the middle of the room. One yelled something muffled, she think he said “Give her some air.” the other men in suits back-ed off and Medusa’s breath hitched.

Standing behind the glass, disoriented, scared, and from the looks of it.blind yet very much  _ alive  _ and  _ free  _ was Lauren Morris, mortal woman, mother of three, and three hundred and fifty ninth victim of Medusa’s curse.

 Medusa was speechless, mesmerized by what she saw. Klaus broke the silence first. “As you can see our latest test was a success. Temporary blindness should go away after a day or two. Our public relations department is already writing a cover story for her disappearance, within a few days we should…”

Medusa tuned him out as her mind began to race.

_ She’s free.  _ She thought.

_ They can be free.  _ Tears began forming at the edges of her eyes.

_ I can be, could it be almost over? _

“So” finished Klaus, “Do we still have your cooperation?”

Medusa was quite a moment longer before she formed her answer, “Of course.”

  
  


After the crash Juliet saw nothing but darkness.

  
  


_ Deny thy father and refuse thy name; _

 

_ Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, _

 

_ And I'll no longer be a- _

 

Pain wracked her body, searing and unyielding, it sunk into her. Fire crawled towards her, nipping at her leg. Jeffery moaned in agony. Eyes heavy and sewn shut, she pushed herself forward. A meger effort, body too weak to move the steel crushing her. The fire bathed her foot and burned it raw, she howled. 

  
  


_ What's in a name? that which we call a rose _

 

_ By any other name would smell as sweet; _

  
  


The drops of life began slipping from her broken body, eaten by the encroaching flames. Her hearing was following her sight into the abyss. The fire was silent. The silence of death, of Asphodel.

 

_ I take thee at thy word: _

 

_ Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; _

  
  


Another sound rose to crescendo. Words. A thousand strings of whispering words forming a howling tempest. The dagger strapped to her thigh burned hotter than the fire ever could. It spoke along with the whispers.

_ “No no no child, the show isn’t over yet! It’s merely the first act, intermission is still a long ways off!” _

__ Rage grew to meet her pain. _ Act? _ she thought.  _ Intermission?  _ Her blood boiled. Her life was not a play. She didn’t care what her pathetic excuse for a half brother did to her name, to his name, she was  _ not _ going to go back to that damned silent hell till she dragged her mother there by her hair. She pushed again, moved an inch, the fire progressed two. New thoughts flooded her dying mind. 

_ “Crash” _

Juliet vomited from the pain, light began to return to her sight. She underestimated her mother again, underestimated the  _ monster _ .

  
  


_ My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, _

 

_ Because it is an enemy to thee; _

  
  


The dagger and the whispers continued. “ _ You live, good, good, you are our champion after all, now go! Remember child, you have our anger! _

She would not die here. She needed another chance, one more chance. She coughed up a wad of phlegm, there was blood in it. 

_ “You have our pain.” _

She cleared her throat, smoke tearing her vocal cords. 

_ “Use our pain to end it, to kill love, to destroy the cancer to-” _

“To avenge him” she finished.

  
  


_ O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? _

  
  


Juliet roared. “ **LIVE** ”

The world shot back into clarity, the pain of the fire around her feet vanished though the fire did not. Her dress was ruined, her hair a mess. This was not going as planned. Robotically, she placed both hands on the edge of the car, tilted sideways and pinning her down. She took a staggered, hoarse breath, and commanded her body.

Very few daughters of the whore knew their Charmspeak worked on themselves.

“ **LIFT** ”

A magic gripped her limbs, like the strings of a puppet pulling them taunt, strings lead by her and her alone. The car flipped over with some effort and with the lingering power of her Speak she scrambled out of the flames. Her legs were a ruined blanket of boiling red, her adrenaline the only thing keeping her from blacking out again.

“ **IGNORE** ”

The wisps of pain leaking in from her wounds vanished. She pulled herself into a standing position. Her muscles and nerves no doubt screaming bloody murder but her Charmspeak left them bound and gagged.

Several cars along the highway seemed to slow when they spotted the crash, all curious to get a look at the wreckage. She could see one or two dialing on their phones.

“ **LEAVE** ”

Phones were dropped, heads were turned, and away they sped.

She turned to her servants. Jeffrey had managed to crawl his way out of the wreck but passed out. Adam lay limp in the driver’s seat. She limped over to Jeffery.

“ **WAKE** ”

His eyes shot open, he rose to his feet with a vacant expression. His conscious mind no doubt still out, meaning his subconscious must have taken her call. Good, subconsciouses didn’t talk.

She pointed at Adam. “ **SAVE** ”

Jeffery, right leg still clearly very much broken. Scrambled wordlessly to save his friend.

Juliet scanned the ground till she spotted her phone on the pavement. She picked it up and made a call. 

Zack’s annoying voice came on the line. “Juliet? Status update-”

Juliet was silent a moment, gazing at the road stretching on southward towards New Rome, the veritable fortress that her mother had now slunk off to to hide.

“Mission Failed” she growled.


End file.
